Forever My Love(115)

"Certainly," Rosalie said equably, and sent Mira an encouraging glance before leaving the salon and clos­ing the door quietly."Lady Falkner, may I ask if your son knows that you are here?" Mira inquired, seating herself with straight-backed grace and settling the cloth bag in her lap.

"He does not. At the moment I imagine that he is still abed, having last night drunk himself into the happy oblivion commonly experienced by mudlarks after a fresh rain." Mira frowned, both at the knowl­edge that Alec had been drinking and at the critical note in Lady Falkner's voice as she spoke of her son. Was there no one to offer him sympathy or comfort? Why did everyone, including his mother, seem to per­sist in regarding him as self-sufficient and amoral? "You needn't rise to his defense, child… I am here on his behalf," Juliana pointed out, and Mira lifted her chin slightly.

"I do not intend to rise to his defense. In fact, I do not wish to speak about Lord Falkner at all."

Juliana tilted her head inquiringly, responding fa­vorably to the inexorable note in Mira's voice. "You have spirit and backbone, Miss Germain. I saw it from the very first, and that was the reason I introduced you to my son. However, I did not know that the two of you were already well-acquainted. I did not know who you were."

"I did not know who you were."

"No matter. Now, there are other things we must discuss."

"Lady Falkner, I was sincere in saying that I do not wish to discuss your son."

"Then why the devil are you here?"

Mira looked at her steadily, opening the bag and holding up a dried blackish-green stalk with pointed leaves and small white-and-purple flowers.

"Eyebright." Next she held up a generous handful of dried petals. "Celandine. Rue. Roses and—"

"Enough, enough." Although a betraying glint ofinterest had crossed her face, Juliana frowned blackly. "You're a well-meaning little chit. But I am too old to bother with nonsense—"

"It is not nonsense. Many people's eyes dim with age, and I know this will help you. I have seen it work many times. If you just apply this every now and then—"

"If I let you put some noxious concoction on my eyes… and may God witness that if you cause me any pain, I will leave here at once… if I allow this, you will hear what I have come here to say."

"That seems to be a fair exchange." Mira folded the mixture of herbs in a handkerchief with an air of satisfaction.

"It does not. You have nothing to lose by the ar­rangement, whereas I am risking what little sight I do have in order to pamper your inexplicable obsession to doctor me."

"You were saying about Lord Falkner…" Mira prompted, carrying the handkerchief to the untouched tea tray on the Sheraton pier table.

"What precipitated my decision to call on you was my discovery last night about the medallion."

Mira paused in the act of moistening the handker­chief with warm water. "The medallion…" She flushed and turned her face away, feeling Juliana's intent eyes resting on her averted profile.

"After many roundabout questions and astute guesses, I wrung some reluctant admissions out of my son. I had previously noticed the medallion's absence, you see, and I began to suspect what he had done with it. Alec admitted that he had given it to you."

"You would like it back?" Mira questioned fiercely, pulling at the gold chain concealed underneath her gown and fishing the medallion out of her bodice. "Take it. I don't want it." The gesture was a grave tactical error. Juliana pounced on the revelation with asmile that was both pleased and mocking at the same time.

"You're wearing it, I see. No, leave it on. But kindly remove your scowl." Murmuring something un­der her breath, Mira finished dampening the handker­chief and brought it over to the elderly woman. With a martyred attitude, Juliana rested her neck against the back of the sofa and allowed the handkerchief to be placed over her closed eyes. "It stings," she observed mildly.

"Only for the first few minutes," Mira replied, sit­ting down and eyeing her cautiously. After a minute of silence had passed, she could not resist asking, "If you don't want it returned, then why have you mentioned the medallion?"

Juliana lifted a fragile hand to the cloth over her eyes, patting it into place carefully. "My dear, I am too old to be embarrassed by most things. But even I must acknowledge that the situation reeks of an ap­palling excess of melodrama—due entirely to my son, I admit freely. He is a Falkner, and you'll discover that they are proud, stubborn, and very sentimental people with a developed sense of the dramatic. When he gave you that medallion, I am certain that you thought it a very pretty ornament. What you were not aware of was that Alec's gift to you possessed a rather… symbolic significance."