Their Convenient Marriage

by Mary Lyons

  ‘Nonsense!’

  ‘On top of which,’ she continued, despite his interjection, ‘I had to put up with Carlotta—who appears to be convinced that you only married me because my grandfather had paid you to do so. An allegation which, I must admit, I find very upsetting.’

  ‘I’ve never heard such a farrago of utter silliness!’ Antonio told her firmly. ‘And you should not listen to such things either.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it seems that there is something going on, and I want to get to the bottom of it, right now,’ she told him stubbornly. ‘Just how much of what your uncle told me is true? Did he tell you to go and find a rich girl with a large dowry?’

  ‘That is all totally absurd!’ Antonio growled, brushing a hand angrily through his dark hair. ‘Yes, my uncle did want me to get married and settle down. But surely it’s natural for an old man to feel that way? The idea that I would simply do as he told me is utterly ludicrous.’

  ‘OK…but what about my grandfather? Why are Carlotta and your uncle both claiming that you married me simply because I’m heiress to my grandfather’s fortune? They must have got the information from somewhere—right? Besides, I know you saw him before you came up to Suffolk, and…’

  ‘How can you say such things?’ Antonio demanded angrily.

  ‘But Carlotta and your uncle both seem to believe…’ Gina’s voice died away, her slim body shivering with both tension and the chilly atmosphere within the enormous stone-walled cellar.

  ‘I don’t know what Carlotta said. How could I? I wasn’t there. While she’s a good business woman, in every other aspect she’s a flawed personality,’ he ground out furiously. ‘And, as you’ve seen, my uncle is both old and infirm.

  ‘However, I can categorically deny that I married you for any reason other than the fact that I wished to do so,’ he added, clearly struggling to control his fiery Spanish temper. ‘And that you should doubt me…that you should not trust and believe what I say…I find that unforgivable, Gina!’

  Opening her mouth to tell him that she was really very sorry for having allowed herself to be wound up by Carlotta, she was prevented from doing so by a sudden shout from the top of the stone stairs behind them.

  ‘Antonio! There you are…’ his brother-in-law Jaime called out.

  ‘Not now!’ Antonio yelled back impatiently. ‘I will see you later.’

  ‘No! It is very important that I talk to you. Immediately!’ Jaime insisted.

  With a heavy sigh, Antonio turned and began walking rapidly towards the stone steps, beckoning Gina to follow him. But, though she trailed slowly behind him, by the time she reached the top of the steps both he and his brother-in-law seemed to have disappeared.

  Still feeling shattered at the first major quarrel with her husband, and deeply ashamed of having wrongly accused him of such dreadful behaviour, she wandered slowly back down the corridors towards the main reception area of the bodega.

  But she hadn’t gone very far before Antonio suddenly appeared, quickly taking her arm and leading her out of the building by a side door, towards his car. He was looking very stern. His face was set in such harsh lines that she suddenly felt deeply apprehensive.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, as he silently held open the passenger door of his car.

  ‘I am taking you home, Gina,’ he said quietly. ‘I need to talk to you. And with the bodega full of friends and relatives, I think we’ll have more peace and quiet at home.’

  It was a short journey, and yet by the time they arrived back at the family house Gina felt totally strung up with tension. What on earth had possessed her? How could she have accused her darling husband of marrying her for money?

  But she wasn’t given any time to dwell on the subject as Antonio brought the car to a halt outside the house. Quickly taking hold of her arm, he led her firmly in through the front door, past the tearful, clearly distressed figure of his grandmother, and swiftly on down the corridor to a door at the far end, leading on to the large garden behind the house.

  ‘For heaven’s sakes!’ she gasped, as he guided her towards a bench beneath one of the flowering trees. ‘What’s going on? I’m really…really sorry I said all those things, Antonio,’ she pleaded, almost tearfully. ‘I honestly didn’t mean to accuse you…I really didn’t know what I was saying. I do hope that…’

  ‘Hush, querida,’ he murmured, sitting down on the bench beside her before putting his arms around her trembling figure.

  ‘The fact is, my darling, I…I’m afraid that I have some bad news for you,’ he murmured, pressing his face into her hair for a moment. ‘There has just been a phone call from your godmother. To say that…that your grandfather was rushed to hospital this morning, following a very serious heart attack. And I fear he is not expected to survive for more than a few hours at the most.’

  As she gave a low cry, her slim figure trembling, he gently rocked her in his arms. ‘It is a terrible shock for you, no?’ he told her softly. ‘But we will catch the first plane to England. All may yet be well with your grandfather. Modern science…modern medicine can work wonders. All may yet be well.’

  But Gina’s brain seemed frozen. The news was, of course, an awful blow. And, coming on top of that deeply upsetting quarrel with Antonio, it seemed a long time before the mists began to clear in her brain.

  However, as she sat enfolded in the warmth of her beloved husband’s arms, she gradually realised that, deep in her subconscious, she must have known that she would have to face the news of her grandfather’s demise at some point within the foreseeable future. She was going to miss him…desperately. But, as he’d so often said, he’d had a long life, full of enjoyment and pleasure.

  ‘Come…’ Antonio said at last, his voice seeming to come from a long way off as he placed a hand gently beneath her chin, lifting her tear-stained face towards him.

  ‘Come, my darling,’ he said quietly, taking a large handkerchief from his pocket and gently drying her tears. ‘I think we must pack and leave as soon as possible. I will make arrangements for us to catch the next plane to London, yes?’

  CHAPTER SIX

  GINA knew that she would never forget that nightmare journey back to England.

  The long, tiring flight from Spain and their frantic drive from the airport proved to be of no avail. By the time she and Antonio reached the hospital she learned that her grandfather had died some hours before, and that she would never have the opportunity to say goodbye to him.

  Eventually arriving home at the large old house in Pall Mall, she was comforted by the warm welcome and sympathy extended by her grandfather’s manservant, Harold Preston. He, together with his wife Anna—who, for as long as Gina could remember, had reined supreme in the kitchen—did their best to ensure that she had as few problems to cope with as possible.

  Although what she would have done without Antonio by her side, Gina had absolutely no idea.

  It was a shock to discover that following a death in the family there should be so much paperwork, so many forms to fill in and so many arrangements to make concerning the funeral.

  After some discussion, she and Antonio agreed that it would probably be best if they held a quiet, private funeral for her grandfather, to be followed by a large and formal memorial service.

  ‘He was an important man,’ Antonio pointed out. ‘Which means there will be many of his old friends and acquaintances, as well as many colleagues in the wine trade, who will wish to pay their respects. So, would you like me to ask his secretary to compile a list of…how do you say it here in England?…“the great and the good”?’

  ‘Oh, yes—thank you!’ Gina breathed a heavy sigh of relief. ‘There are so many letters of condolence to answer. And I haven’t a clue about some of Grandpa’s old friends. I’d hate to be guilty of not sending out invitations to those who might have been important in his life.’

  When it began raining on the day of the funeral, it somehow seemed appropriate, Gina told herself, arriving at the ancient chur
ch where she and Antonio had been married only a few weeks ago. And, although it was a desperately sad occasion, she felt immeasurably strengthened to have Antonio’s tall, broad-shouldered figure standing closely by her side, firmly holding her hand within his own firm clasp.

  Later that evening, as they sat on the sofa in her grandfather’s study—she couldn’t yet face the huge, icily formal drawing room upstairs, on the first floor—she savoured the relief of being able to place her head on Antonio’s broad, comforting shoulder as they talked quietly together about the events of the day.

  ‘Unfortunately, my darling,’ he said at last, ‘I’m afraid that I will have to leave you for some days, since I really cannot afford to cancel my trip to California. As you know, some of the Napa Valley wine-growers have kindly agreed to show me around their vineyards. And, since the Americans are leaders in the use of modern technology, it is vitally important for me to see what they are doing—and if it can be applied to my own business.’

  ‘Yes, of course you must go,’ she said, before adding with a sigh, ‘I wish I could come with you.’

  ‘Umm…I wish you could be there with me, too,’ he said, pressing a quick kiss on her brow. ‘But Sir Robert’s secretary seems to have all the arrangements here well in hand. And I will definitely be back to support you at the memorial service.’

  ‘I must say that’s a relief. I hardly recognise any of the names on this list, which has been drawn up by Grandpa’s secretary. And I’m really going to need you by my side when I have to meet and greet all these people.’

  ‘There’s no need to worry—I’ll be there. And in any case, my darling, there’s that meeting tomorrow with your family lawyer,’ he pointed out. ‘If, as seems likely, you have inherited the whole of your grandfather’s business, you’ll be far too busy to have any time to miss me.’

  It had been a wrench to wave her new husband goodbye earlier that morning, Gina told herself the next day, as the taxi dropped her off outside the large, anonymous-looking building in the City of London. She’d never had any dealings with her grandfather’s firm of lawyers, and she wasn’t quite sure what was likely to happen regarding his will.

  However, in the event, she found herself being shown into a large, thoroughly modern office, and being greeted with a hearty handshake by a large, rather avuncular-looking middle-aged man.

  ‘As I believe you already know, Sir Robert had always intended you to be his sole heiress,’ the lawyer said, after having sat her down comfortably in front of his desk and provided a soothing cup of coffee.

  ‘There are one or two private bequests, such as those to his servants, of course. But in all other respects you are now the sole proprietor of Brandon’s of Pall Mall.’

  As she sat there, wondering what she was supposed to say or do at this point, the lawyer continued, ‘I’m pleased to say that your grandfather’s estate is remarkably free of any encumbrances. Other than the codicil which he recently added to his will, of course. In fact, Mrs…er…Señora Ramirez—’ he gave her a beaming smile ‘—it would seem that you are now a very, very wealthy woman.’

  ‘A codicil?’ she murmured with a slight frown.

  The lawyer nodded. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to bore you with all the legal jargon,’ he said, adjusting the papers on the desk in front of him. ‘Your grandfather came to see me, just over a month ago, and asked me to draw up this codicil—a legal addition to his main Will and Testament. It stated that when the proposed marriage between yourself and your fiancé took place, Señor Don Antonio Ramirez would receive a certain amount of money, for his own sole use.’

  The lawyer paused, adjusting his glasses as he peered down at the document in front of him.

  ‘Sir Robert also added a comment to the effect that he hoped Señor Don Antonio Ramirez would use the bequest to generally improve and modernise his wine-making business in Spain.’

  Gina gazed at him steadily for a moment. ‘When you say “a certain amount of money”—just how much are we talking about?’

  Consulting the paper again, the lawyer mentioned a sum which fairly took Gina’s breath away.

  ‘That…that’s a really enormous amount of money!’ she exclaimed.

  But the solicitor merely shrugged his shoulders. ‘It is one which the estate can well afford. In fact, I recall your grandfather mentioning that, since you were marrying Don Antonio, he regarded it as a very good investment.’

  Returning to the large, empty house, and pacing up and down her grandfather’s study, Gina tried to come to terms with the full impact of what she’d just learned. Because, whichever way she looked at it, it was now clear that her grandfather and Antonio had come to some sort of arrangement. The final proof of the bargain they’d obviously made between them being the date when the codicil had been drawn up—the day immediately after those four romantic days in Suffolk when Antonio—having asked her to marry him and gained her grandfather’s approval of their marriage—had flown back to Spain.

  Everything Carlotta Perez had said—and old Uncle Emilio, for that matter—now fell neatly into place. Indeed, it didn’t need a very high IQ to work out exactly what had happened over that long hot weekend just over a month ago.

  To begin with, there was the fact that Antonio had clearly been under pressure from his uncle to get married. And not just to find himself a wife—but a rich one, too. And it also seemed highly likely, if she’d understood his uncle correctly, that old Emilio and her grandfather had been talking to one another—probably over the phone.

  Gina had also been aware that with her grandfather’s increasing age and infirmity he’d been worried about what was going to happen to her when she took over the business.

  While her grandpa hadn’t made too much of a song and dance about it, he had occasionally mentioned that he’d have felt a lot more cheerful about leaving her in charge if she’d had the strong arm of a husband to lean on. Leaving Gina in no doubt that he’d hoped she would be married and settled down by the time she came to inherit the business.

  So then—clearly in answer to his prayers—Antonio had turned up, looking for his missing consignment of wine.

  She knew that he’d spent some time in the office with her grandfather. And that’s when they must have hatched their plan, she told herself, trembling with rage at the thought of just how stupid she’d been.

  And for Antonio, arriving with very little notice to find her not only alone, but, as it turned out, highly vulnerable to his sensual appeal, it must have seemed the opportunity of a lifetime. Which he’d quickly grabbed with both hands. Because he’d already known—only too well—that she’d been madly in love with him all those years ago. It must have seemed as easy as falling off a log to charm the socks off such a foolish, naamp2;¨ve woman.

  And you had to hand it to him, he was definitely a fast worker! Because it had only taken Antonio three days of wild, passionate sex—during which she’d clearly been out of her mind—to obtain her agreement to their marriage.

  And then, with her in tow, he’d dashed back down to London and told her grandfather the good news, arranged a quick wedding, and hurried off back to Spain.

  No wonder Uncle Emilio had been as pleased as punch! It seemed as if everyone—apart from herself, of course—had known that, as soon as her frail, elderly grandfather died, Antonio would have enough money to build a whole, brand-new company headquarters, if he wished to.

  Oh, God! What an utter, utter fool she’d been. She really was, as Carlotta had so bitchily pointed out, now firmly trapped in a marriage of convenience.

  Well…it might be ‘convenient’ for Antonio, but it looked like being one of sheer hell as far as she was concerned.

  As the day of the memorial service came closer, it seemed that it was only sheer anger at both her own stupidity—and her husband’s despicable behaviour—which kept her going through the unhappy days and wretchedly tortured nights.

  Because she hadn’t just been an idiot to fall for Antonio’s obvious charms
. Even now, when she knew what a conniving louse the man really was, she couldn’t seem to banish him from her heart. There was no lessening of her intense longing for him, or of her almost overwhelming, aching need for the warmly erotic, sensual caress of his hands on her body.

  The only fortunate aspect of the whole rotten business had been the fact that, with the awkward time difference between London and California, they’d already agreed not to try and phone one another. Although Gina knew she was going to have to confront Antonio at some point, she couldn’t possibly cope with doing so during a transatlantic phone call.

  And, underlying all her anger and fury at what had happened, lay the dreadful knowledge that she was now entirely alone in the world.

  She had a godmother, and many friends. But no family of her own. No brothers or sisters, no parents, uncles or aunts—absolutely no one to whom she could look for love and support during these hard, difficult days. And it was the increasing feelings of utter loneliness which she found so difficult to combat. Loneliness…and the sense of total betrayal by her husband—the one man she’d thought she could trust, and whom she’d loved with all her heart.

  Coming down to breakfast on the day of the memorial service, which was due to take place at eleven o’clock that morning, Gina realised that it had been foolish of her to expect Antonio to turn up.

  After all—why should he? she asked herself grimly, catching sight of herself in the hall mirror and wincing at the sight of her pale face, emphasised by the sober black dress she was wearing.

  Antonio must know that he’d be getting the money he needed to drag that rotten bodega of his into the twenty-first century. So there was clearly no point in forcing himself to go through the motions any more. No need to pretend to be a kind, devoted husband…?

  Not able to face anything other than a cup of coffee, Gina was feeling totally wound up and tense as she glanced down at her watch.

  Ten o’clock. Well, there was only an hour to go—or less, in fact, since the chauffeured limousine would be coming to pick her up in half an hour. An arrangement made by her grandfather’s secretary to ensure that she was at the church well in advance of the guests attending the service.