[Oxrun Station] The Last Call of Mourning Read Online Free Page B

outside, not the in.
    She stared at her glass.
    You, she told herself, are starting to feel sorry, aren't you?
    She nodded.
    Then you're an idiot.
    A momentary hush in the lounge made her stiffen, holding her glass halfway to her lips. Less than a moment, less than a second, but she felt it nevertheless and was not surprised when a shadow drifted over her table.
    "Father," she said without looking up, "you're supposed to be home. You're late for supper, if you haven't missed it already."
    He was well over six feet tall and a match for his sons in keeping himself fit. His hair was a carefully considered wash of white that looked down over his ears and brushed at the collar of his three-piece tweed suit. His face was flushed, as always, and the walrus mustache quivered as he sought for a word to keep his daughter in her place.  She forestalled him, however, by rising and kissing him solidly on the cheek, waiting until he'd sat before taking her chair gain. "I don't suppose this is coincidence," she said, once again intent on the print above her head.
    He shook his head, pulled a thick envelope out of his jacket pocket. "I met that man, Grange, on the street. He told me you were here." When she said nothing, he slid the envelope in front of her. "I've just come from Angus. He told me . . . well, damnit, Cyd, what are you trying to prove?"
    "He wasn't supposed to say anything," she whispered, though not contritely. "He's got a bigger mouth than Rob."
    "Your brother has nothing to do with this, I hope."
    "Father, please keep your voice down."   .
    Yarrow seemed to shrink within the greatcoat that matched his suit, but his expression remained stern as he dismissed the hovering waitress.
    "And no, Rob had nothing to do with this. Or Evan. Or Mother. No one was supposed to know."
    "Fait accompli, is that it?"
    She shrugged. Something was wrong.
    "My dear, I don't know what to say."
    She shrugged again, and cursed herself for not getting another lawyer to handle the sale and transfer of title. But Angus Stone had been her family's protector since, it seemed, the day he'd stolen all Harvard's honors, and it was only natural she should go to him when the itch she'd discovered had to be scratched.
    And when the silence became a near physical pain, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I wanted something to do. It's as simple as that."
    "Well, why the . . . why didn't you tell me?"
    She tried not to frown. Why wasn't he bellowing?
    "Because," she said, "I'm not a lawyer like Evan, and I hate banking—which is your and Rob's cross, not mine—and I refuse to wallpaper or paint in any fashion, shape or form, or redecorate a single room in a house that's too bloody big for us anyway."
    "Your mother's good at it."
    "Of course she is, but that's not the point."
    "I know," he said surprisingly, and so quietly that she almost didn't hear him. "But you're . . . you're not the same since you came back, Cynthia, not the same at all."
    "For all that, neither are you," she said without thinking, and leaned quickly back from the expression on his face. It had no name. Just a look. A look that as much as slapped her and left a rising welt.
    "All right," he said as though a decision had been made, "if this is what you want. You know, though, there's been a thousand movies made of this: rich girl, bored, tries quaint shop of her own, rich father opposes but secretly helps her, she's a success in spite of him and marries the poor boy and they live happily ever after. A thousand films. It's all very . . . B-movie, Cyd."
    She could not help it; she gaped. "B-movie? Father, I didn't know you knew what that meant?"
    He   very  nearly  laughed,  coughed   instead. "You think I've been living in a vacuum all my life, girl? God Almighty. Anyway," and he tapped the envelope, "Angus wanted me to give you these."
    "The creep," she muttered.
    He laughed loudly and rose, put a hard hand on her shoulder. "It's all yours now, girl. I hope you know