Forgotten Fiancee
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Title Page
Books by Lucy Gordon
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Copyright
She risked nudging the door open and looked in.
Justin lay in a shaft of moonlight. Nervous, yet unable to stop herself, Sarah slipped in and knelt beside him, her face only a few inches from his. She was free now to look with longing.
She felt like a thief, stealing her joy from a defenseless man, but she couldn’t help it. After the long, lonely months, nothing could have stopped her from taking this moment. Perhaps it was all she would ever have.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
Justin stirred, and she rose quickly and fled. In her room, her son Nicky had just awakened. Sarah scooped him up and held him tightly to her.
“He’s come back to us, my darling,” she whispered. “Do you hear that? He’s come back to us.”
Dear Reader,
As the long summer stretches before us, July sizzles with an enticing Special Edition lineup!
We begin with this month’s THAT SPECIAL WOMAN! title brought to you by the wonderful Jennifer Greene. She concludes her STANFORD SISTERS series with The 200% Wife—an engaging story about one woman’s quest to be the very best at everything, most especially love.
If you delight in marriage-of-convenience stories that evolve into unexpected love, be sure to check out Mail-Order Matty by Emilie Richards, book one in our FROM BUD TO BLOSSOM theme series. Written by four popular authors, this brand-new series contains magical love stories that bring change to the characters’ lives when they least expect it
Pull out your handkerchiefs, because we have a three-hankie Special Edition novel that will touch you unlike any of the stories you’ve experienced before. Nothing Short of a Miracle by Patricia Thayer is a poignant story about a resilient woman, a devoted father and a cherished son who yearn for a miracle— and learn to trust in the wondrous power of love.
If absorbing amnesia stories are your forte, be sure to check out Forgotten Fiancée by Lucy Gordon. Or perhaps you can’t pass up an engrossing family drama with a seductive twist. Then don’t miss out on The Ready-Made Family by Laurie Paige. Finally, we wrap up a month of irresistible romance when one love-smitten heroine impulsively poses as her twin sister and marries the man of her dreams in Substitute Bride by Trisha Alexander.
An entire summer of romance is just beginning to unfold at Special Edition! I hope you enjoy each and every story to come!
Sincerely,
Tara Gavin,
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Forgotten Fiancée
Lucy Gordon
Books by Lucy Gordon
Silhouette Special Edition
Legacy of Fire #148
Enchantment in Venice #185
Bought Woman #547
Outcast Woman #749
Seduced by Innocence #902
Forgotten Fiancée #1112
Silhouette Romance
The Carrister Pride #306
Island of Dreams #353
Virtue and Vice #390
Once Upon a Time #420
A Pearl Beyond Price #503
Golden Boy #524
A Night of Passion #596
A Woman of Spirit #611
A True Marriage #639
Song of the Lorelei #754
Heaven and Earth #904
Instant Father #952
This Man and This Woman #1079
Silhouette Desire
Take All Myself #164
The Judgement of Paris #179
A ColdheartedMan #245
My Only Love, My Only Hate #317
A Fragile Beauty #333
Just Good Friends #363
Eagle’s Prey #380
For Love Alone #416
Vengeance Is Mine #493
Convicted of Love #544
The Sicilian #627
On His Honor #669
Married in Haste #777
Uncaged #864
Two Faced Woman #953
This Is My Child #982
LUCY GORDON
met her husband-to-be in Venice, fell in love the first evening and got engaged two days later. They’re still happily married and now live in England with their three dogs. For twelve years Lucy was a writer for an English women’s magazine. She interviewed many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Sir Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud.
In 1985 she won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Outstanding Series Romance Author. She has also won a Golden Leaf Award from the New Jersey Chapter of RWA, was a finalist in the RWA Golden Medallion contest in 1988 and won the 1990 RITA Award in the Best Traditional Romance category for Song of the Lorelei.
Prologue
It had been a long, troubled night, but in the morning her son lay in her arms, and pain was forgotten. Like any new baby he had features that were smudged and uncertain, but even now Sarah could see in them the face of the man she loved and would never see again.
“He’s a fine little fellow.” Uncle Nick leaned over, and Sarah turned so that he could get his first view of his new relative. “He’s got the Mottson nose,” he declared with satisfaction.
“Uncle Nick,” she protested with a faint laugh. “He’s three hours old.”
“That’s the thing about the Mottson nose. You can see it right from the start.”
She smiled and let it go. The old man, who was actually her great-uncle, had taken her in when she had nowhere else to turn. He’d allowed his life to be disrupted without complaint, and she would let him see whatever he liked in his great-great-nephew.,
“Thought of a name yet?” Nick asked.
“Justin Nicholas,” Sarah whispered. “And we’ll call him Nicky.”
Uncle Nick beamed at the compliment. “That’s— that’s just—well, I don’t know.”
“You’ve earned it,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Now, don’t talk foolishness. Who else would you have come to but your old uncle?” His face became grave suddenly. “Is—is there anyone you’d like me to get in touch with?”
“No one,” Sarah said without hesitation. “No one at all.”
“Darling, I’ve never bothered you about the man before—not when I saw you didn’t want to talk about him. But whoever he is, he’s just become a father, and he has a right to know.”
Sarah shook her head stubbornly.
“Is he married?” Nick asked gently.
“No.”
“He’s not dead, is he?”
“No, he’s not dead.”
“Then he ought to know that he’s got a son.”
“You don’t understand,” she cried. “He doesn’t want to know.” She kissed her baby in a passion of tenderness while tears poured down her cheeks onto the child. “He doesn’t want us,” she sobbed. “He doesn’t want us.”
Chapter One
“I’m afraid Mr. Hall wood is rather busy—�
�
“He won’t be too busy for me. I’ll show myself in.”
Justin grinned at the sound of Marguerite’s confident voice. Normally he disliked being disturbed at work, but today was her birthday, and he was feeling indulgent. He was pleased by her flaunted beauty and pleased with himself for choosing her as his prospective wife. She was the best, and he always bought the best.
“Darling, when are you going to tell that dragon to stop trying to keep me out?” she said, almost purring, gliding across the floor to envelop him in a perfumed embrace. She wore a mink coat, for it was March and still chilly.
“Perhaps she thinks I have important work to do?” he suggested.
“More important than me?”
“Nothing’s more important than you,” he said automatically, and was rewarded with a kiss.
“I hope I’m going to get my present now?” she asked.
“Not until later.” She made a little moue of disappointment. “All right, you can have one of them.” He gave her a small black box. “I saw it in Cartier’s, and it made me think of you.”
The box contained a very large diamond brooch. Marguerite’s smile wavered for a fraction of a second before she voiced her delight. “Darling, it’s beautiful—”
“It’s not your main present. You’ll get that this evening at the party.”
“I can’t wait for you to see my dress. I had it specially made, and it cost a fortune.”
“So I should hope. I want you to do me proud.”
“Have I ever disappointed you?”
For some reason the right words wouldn’t come. “You’re always—exactly what I expect,” was the best he could manage.
She laughed, evidently seeing nothing amiss in this lukewarm tribute. “It’s nice to know I give satisfaction,” she said with a trill. “Now I must fly. Don’t be late for the party.”
When she’d gone Justin sat for a moment, wondering why he’d bought a brooch instead of the engagement ring she so plainly expected. He planned to marry her. He should have proposed by now, but something he didn’t understand always held him back. He would ask her tonight—or perhaps tomorrow.
But he’d been saying that to himself for two weeks, he realized. It wasn’t like him to be indecisive.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to shift the metal band that seemed to have tightened around his head. It wasn’t exactly a headache, more a general feeling of stifling imprisonment. It had troubled him a lot recently, and he didn’t know why.
If ever a man had a rich, satisfying life, that man was Justin Hall wood. At thirty-seven he was in his prime, heading a firm that was doing spectacularly well. The clothes he wore, the food he ate, the car he drove were the best, the most costly. The same was true of Marguerite. When he walked into a fashionable restaurant with her on his arm he knew that heads turned and murmurs of envy pursued them. He was a man beloved of the gods.
Why then this persistent feeling of malaise, of discontent that sometimes verged on actual despair? No! He cut off the thought. That was a fanciful way of thinking, and he had no time for what was fanciful. It was stern realism and long hours of hard work that had enabled him to build up Hallwood Construction and Engineering until it was one of the largest firms of its kind in the country. He only wished his younger brother, Greg, would understand that, and take a more serious interest in business.
Greg himself chanced to look in at that moment with some papers. He was a good-looking, lively young man. “I’ve had Foster’s on the phone,” he said, a tad too casually.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Hell, Justin! What would be so terrible about giving them another couple of months to pay?”
“You said that last time, and the time before. I listened to you and what happened? When payment day arrived there were more excuses.”
“Well, how do you expect them to raise the money when we’ve stolen most of their business?”
Justin’s sharp blue eyes gained a frosty look that his brother knew and dreaded. “We stole nothing,” he snapped. “Their customers chose us because of our greater efficiency and competitive prices.”
“Meaning that we used our size and strength to undercut them, knowing that they couldn’t fight back?”
“Business is business! It’s a hard world.”
“I’ll bet our prices shoot up again once we’ve closed Foster’s.”
“They’ve had all the time I’m prepared to give them.”
“I just can’t tell old man Foster that.”
“All right, I’ll talk to him myself. Though how you’re going to survive in this world if you can’t steel yourself for unpleasant jobs I can’t imagine.”
“Justin, please—”
“Is there anything more for me to sign? No? Good. Don’t forget we have a meeting with the auditors at five this afternoon. Come fully prepared.”
“What about Marguerite’s party?”
“It doesn’t start until eight. Forget the party until you’ve done some more work.”
“Wait until you see my date. She’s a real eyecatcher.”
“I’m sure she was chosen for looks, like all your lady friends,” Justin said dryly.
“Coming from the man who walked off with the gorgeous Marguerite, that’s a bit rich,” Greg complained. “Are you going to announce the wedding tonight, by the way?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Justin said with a sudden sharpness.
“Everyone thinks it’s going to happen and that’s why you’re holding the party at Jaquino’s.”
“Marguerite chose Jaquino’s, not me.”
“That’s not how she tells it. According to her it’s something sentimental about your first meeting. Didn’t you meet her the night of the Carter Vernon reception?”
“No, three weeks earlier. She was dating Vernon, and I met him with her a couple of times.”
“But he brought her to that reception, didn’t he? And you and she looked at each other across a crowded room—”
“Have you been drinking?” Justin asked coldly.
“All right, only a joke. Anyway, Marguerite has happy memories of Jaquino’s. Did you and she finish that evening together? I remember hearing someone say you’d driven off with a woman—”
“I’m sure you have work to do,” Justin interrupted him. “Next time you want to indulge your frivolous ramblings, please do it somewhere else.”
Greg knew that chilly, tone. He took the signed papers and left quietly. In the anteroom he raised his eyes to heaven for the benefit of Justin’s secretary.
Justin called her on the intercom a moment later. “Hold my calls,” he said curtly.
He couldn’t explain his sudden need to be alone. It would have been a weakness to admit that he was unsettled by Greg’s words. That night at Jaquino’s had been two years ago. It was over, done with.
No, not done with. It would never be done with until he knew what had become of Sarah Conroy and the child she’d carried. His child.
He’d met her at the reception to celebrate his taking over Carter Vernon. Officially the two firms had merged, but everyone had known that the Hallwood power had overcome the smaller business. Edward Carter had looked sad at the end of his life’s work, and Justin had felt impatient. The man had just made a handsome profit.
Jack Vernon had turned up with his fiancee, as he insisted on calling Marguerite, with more optimism than confidence. Since the takeover he was a loser, and Marguerite’s eyes were straying toward Justin. He’d danced with her a couple of times that night but ignored her hints that they leave together.
He could still remember his first sight of the young woman standing alone by the wall. She stood out with her face that wore only a touch of makeup and her glossy dark brown hair that looked as if she’d just run a comb through it. Her dress was simple, not couture simple but the plain garment of someone who could afford no better. She looked fresh and natural, and suddenly Justin found the noise and the smoke irksome. He ma
de his way across to her and shouted over the din, “You don’t look as if you’re enjoying it much.”
“Oh, yes—yes, I am,” she began valiantly, but the pretense soon collapsed. “This isn’t really my sort of scene.”
“Nor mine,” he said wryly. “How did you get roped in?”
She was with her boyfriend, who worked for Hallwood. There was no sign of the boyfriend until Justin spotted him dancing smoothly with someone else. The young woman smiled and insisted that she was fine— just fine, honestly. Justin turned to speak to someone who was trying to claim his attention, and when he looked around she was gone.
He saw her again at the end of the evening, standing outside looking as though her hopes were fast fading. “He’s gone,” Justin told her. “He went off with that painted piece he was dancing with. You’re better off without him.”
“I did warn him that I’d be out of place. He must have realized I was right.” She spoke without selfpity, and Justin regarded her with interest.
“Where do you live?” When she told him he whistled. “You won’t get back there without help. I’ll drive you.”
“I can get a bus—”
“I’ll drive you,” he said firmly.
He could sense her unease at being in his luxurious car. Her tiny apartment was at the end of a long, bleak road, the kind he’d lived in as a boy and fought to escape. At the door she began to thank him, but he invited himself in. He was curious to see how she lived.
Her two little rooms surprised him. Despite the dreariness of her surroundings they were bright and cheerful. There were flowers everywhere, some real, some photographs on the wall, some her own drawings. She made him coffee, and as they drank they exchanged names. Hers was Sarah Conroy, and it struck him as like herself, down-to-earth, good and honest. She was in her mid-twenties, but she had a shyness and lack of sophistication that was a novelty to him and that made her seem younger.
“By the way, I’m Justin Hallwood,” he said.
“Yes, I know. I saw you when they made the speeches. I’m sorry if I said anything I shouldn’t have before. I didn’t realize you were Philip’s boss!”