His mouth twisted with dry humour. 'Only postpone it?'
'Your mother's words against Glenna were pretty insulting.'
'She's at breaking point, surely you can see that?' Alex dismissed.
She nodded. 'But it's usually when we're under the most emotional strain that we can dare to say the things we really feel.'
'My mother is always!—articulate, he drawledely. 'Believe me, she always says what she Tike you.'
'And you,' he nodded.
Unwilling humour lightened her features. 'Pretty Mot lot, aren't we?' she mocked. T would say so,' Alex agreed wryly. 'Now would you if I got on with my work? Hammond Industries, unfortunately, hasn't ground to a halt, I still have to He was kept very busy the next three days, so much ID that Morgan rarely saw him. She didn't see too . of Rita Hammond either, as Alex had persuaded the other woman to stay with her daughter for a while, absence was a welcome relief to Morgan. She it almost every waking moment with Courtney, soon lost her nervousness with him, managing to iced, dress and change him with ease now. And the baby seemed to be coming to know her too, often Mopping his crying if she should happen to take him in her arms and cradle him, when he wouldn't stop for Mrs Ford.
Morgan came to a halt in the nursery doorway on the third evening when she saw Alex actually sitting in The rocker in the nursery feeding Courtney his evening bottle. As far as she was aware he had never done such a thing before.
As if becoming aware of her gaze on him he looked up, giving a rueful grimace at her surprised expression.
'You're doing very well,' she smiled, moving further into the room.
'I thought I was,' he nodded. 'Until I winded him and he was sick down my back!'
Morgan held back her laugh with difficulty. 'I had a few accidents like that to start with, but now I always put a towel over my shoulder.'
'I will in future.' He put the bottle down as it was finished with. 'Here, let me,' she draped a towel over his shoulder. 'A bit late for that, isn't it?' he mocked 'Better late than never,' she quipped, wiping Courtney's mouth as he was a little sick. 'See,' she said with satisfaction. 'He's almost asleep,' she murmured softly a few minutes later, as the baby's head turned to one side and his eyes closed.
Alex stood up to lay the drowsy baby gently back in his crib. 'I sent Mrs Ford to dinner and thought I would see what it was that's given you that glow for the last few days.'
'Well, it wasn't having Courtney being sick down my back,' she retorted to hide her embarrassment. She hadn't been aware of having a glow, or the fact that Alex had noticed it.
He eased the dampness of the silk material from his shoulders. 'God, my shirt stinks!'
'So will you,' she assured him. 'I should get that shirt washed immediately. And you'll need a shower.' 'And I always thought babies smelt of talcum powder!'
'Poor Alex!' she laughed softly. 'Hm,' he grimaced. 'I didn't deprive you of your nightly treat, did I? Mrs Ford tells me you've been mainly feeding and caring for Courtney yourself.'
'I've enjoyed it.' It also gave her something to do. She was left mainly to her own devices, Alex either at work or in his study, and she liked being with Courtney.
He nodded, moving out of the nursery and into the corridor so that their conversation didn't disturb the sleeping baby. 'The funerals are tomorrow, Morgan,' he told her quietly. 'They've been arranged for the afternoon." She had paled at his first mention of funerals. She known that the bodies from the crash had been released for burial now, but Alex hadn't mentioned Ac funerals to her before. "'I've spoken to your parents,' he continued in the emotionless voice that she so hated. 'Your father still wasn't well enough to travel, and your mother doesn't fed she should leave him at such a time.'
"Of course not,' she snapped. She knew exactly how her father was; she had telephoned America several tones since her arrival here. The closeness she had felt •D Alex while they were with Courtney had completely gone, and the resentment was now back with a vengeance. 'You should have let me tell them.'
'It wasn't necessary '
"They're my parents, damn it!'
'Why do you always resort to swearing when you lose your temper?' he bit out.
"Why do you always make me lose my temper?' she said.
'I have no idea,' he said grimly.
'I do!' she glared at him, her eyes sparkling deeply green. 'You have to be the most arrogant, bossy individual I've ever had the misfortune to meet. You had no right to talk to my parents about the funerals— I should have done it!'
I didn't want to cause you any more pain
'You mean you were too busy organising everyone to consider anyone else's feelings but your own,' she dismissed scathingly. 'I've been in control of my own Efe since I left home at eighteen to go to college, and then you come along, with your dictatorial ways and expect everyone to jump on command. Well, I don't jump, Mr Hammond, and quite frankly I never will!'
He listened to her tirade in stony silence, a man who ran and owned an empire, who made decisions every day that affected thousands of lives, and the fact that one mere woman, one unwelcome woman in his home, dared to question his authority obviously came as a great and unexpected shock to him.
'I intend returning to the States after—after the funerals,' she told him coldly. 'But only for a couple of weeks at most. And then I'll be back. And I'll right for custody of Courtney with every weapon I can think of.
Alex shook his head. 'I can't let you have him.'
'Because you consider my morals aren't good enough?' she taunted. 'You'll find nothing wrong with them, no matter how deeply you dig into my past. I've been too busy with my career the last few years to want to complicate my life with emotional entanglement, especially with Glenna's marriage as an example! She loved your brother, and yet she was still unhappy. I didn't want that for myself.'
'Glenna mentioned someone called Sam.' He looked at her with narrowed eyes.
She flushed. 'It would seem you spent a considerable amount of time talking to my sister.'
He nodded distandy. 'She was an intelligent woman, and Mark wasn't always here. Glenna naturally told me about you, your parents—Sam.'
'I've been seeing him for several months. But I certainly don't intend marrying him.'
'I trust he knows that?
'None of your business, Mr Hammond,' she snapped.
'No,' he sighed, 'I don't suppose it is. All right, Morgan, have your time back in the States. But when you get back here don't expect to take Courtney away from me. He's a Hammond, he'll stay here where he belongs.'
We'll see about that!'
'Indeed we will,' he drawled confidendy, and left her to go to his bedroom to change his shirt.
It was his confidence that worried her the most. He almost too confident, as if she didn't have a chance erf getting Courtney. And maybe she didn't. She had a fat against her—her job, her single state, the fact that Courtney had been born a British citizen. But she wouldn't give up without a fight, wouldn't be her feher's daughter if she did that!
Morgan decided she hated funerals. She had never been to one before, had never had reason to, and those two coffins standing side by side in the church, all that remained of Glenna and Mark, seemed all the more heartrending.
Alex stood at her side, had supported his mother all through the service as she seemed about to collapse. Morgan had driven to the church with them, Janet aid Charles Fairchild travelling in the car behind them, their two little girls being left with Charles' mother for the day.
Morgan hated being in this cold emotionless church, hated the curious looks Mark's family directed at her, and she wondered why she didn't cry when it was her sister lying in one of those boxes.
She refused to cry, refused to believe that any part of Glenna, the laughing beautiful woman that mattered, was anywhere near this sterile service, this Mark church. None of these people here had loved Glenna, none had tried to understand her—and her sister wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply she mourned her.
By the time they got back to the house Rita Hammond seemed to have recovered her composure, and was acting the gracious hostess as the family began to arrive from the church.
To Morgan it was just another part of the charade. How could these people genuinely feel the loss of two beautiful young people when they could stand around drinking sherry and eating the trays of food the staff were circulating with? Morgan couldn't have eaten a thing and, quite frankly, the whole thing made her feel sick.
She wanted to escape, to get away from here, and yet pride kept her standing in the room, that and her love for Glenna. Her sister hadn't been one to run away from a fight, and neither would she.
'She finally got her wish.'
Morgan spun round to confront Janet Fairchild, instantly tensing. Janet was as cold and calculating as her mother. She even looked like her with her cold blue eyes and tightly drawn back black hair, and Morgan knew any attempt at conversation with her owed nothing to politeness.
'I beg your pardon?' she said warily.
'Glenna,' Janet drawled, dressed completely in black as was her mother; Morgan had chosen a less dramatic navy blue dress, not being out to make any impressions. 'She always wanted to get away from the family,' she taunted. 'She got her wish—although hardly in the way she expected.'
Morgan drew in a harsh breath of pain. 'That's a disgusting thing to say!'
Janet raised dark brows, coolly knocking the ash from her cigarette into the ashtray. 'Is it? Perhaps. But it's the truth, isn't it?' she shrugged.
'Glenna was unhappy here, yes. But '
'You knew about that?'
She frowned. 'I don't think Glenna ever made any secret of the fact that she was—dissatisfied, with her life here.'