Marrying William

by Trisha David

  MARRYING WILLIAM

  Trisha David

  The only solution was -- marriage...

  Betangera Beach Farm didn't belong to Jenni, but it could -- if she stayed married for one year. If she didn't, her cousin Ronald would inherit from his mother, and evict her. Could she find a husband at such short notice? More importantly, did she want to?

  William's arrival, offering marriage, was a shock. He simply didn't want Ronald to inherit. But William was surprised by the hold his old family farm still had on him, and the growing delight he found in Jenni's company. Did he really think he could walk away after the year was up? Suddenly, he wasn't at all sure.

  PROLOGUE

  'Harriet, could you get by without me for a year?'

  'Excuse me, sir?'

  'If I took off for a year...? Serious question, Harriet. Think.'

  Harriet thought. One of the reasons she was William's chief assistant was her ability to face trouble without fuss. Harriet was fifty years old and unflappable.

  'Well, I guess,' she said slowly. 'Walter and I can cope with the administration, and you have superb chefs running your restaurants. If you were within easy contact...'

  'How about Australia?'

  Australia... What on earth was in Australia to attract a businessman of William's calibre?

  'I thought maybe you were thinking of expanding the chain to England,' she said mildly. 'Surely England—'

  'Nope. I'm thinking of a Betangera branch;' William's dark eyes twinkled at her bewilderment.

  'Betangera?'

  'It's on the south-east coast of Australia and has the best surfing in the world.'

  Harriet pushed her glasses down her nose. She scrutinised her boss, but she was looking for something she didn't find.

  William didn't seem tired and he didn't look ill. William Brand was thirty-four years old and as sharp as a tack. He didn't look as if he needed to take a year off and go surfing.

  'I don't see there'd be much call for boutique hotels somewhere like that,' Harriet said slowly. 'May I ask why?'

  'Why?' William gave Harriet a twisted smile, and grimaced down at the documents in front of him. 'It's probably stupid, but call it repayment of a debt. A debt that's been due for a very long time.'

  'Mr Brand, you can pay off any debt in cash without having to traipse halfway around the world. For heaven's sake, your capital base and liquid assets are enormous. Of course you can pay off a debt.'

  'Not this one, I can't.' William fingered the papers before him, his smile fading and his usually decisive eyes troubled. 'Or, at least, not with money. Harriet, what sort of a husband would I make?'

  'A husband!' That shocked her. Over the years William had dated some of the world's most beautiful women, but Harriet had never heard he was attached to any of them. Not after Julia...

  Once bitten, twice shy, they said, and Harriet could only agree. The man lived and breathed business, and, after Julia, no woman would stand in his way.

  'You're thinking of marrying again?' she ventured.

  'I think I must. If she'll have. me...'

  'If she'll have you...' Harriet gave a little chortle. 'Goodness, Mr Brand, I doubt if that'll be a problem. Most women...'

  'This girl isn't just any woman,' William said slowly, still staring at the documents. 'Damn, I can't even remember her. I think I've met her. I have vague memories of a kid with pigtails and a cheeky grin, but...'

  'But?'

  'But I guess I just have to take myself halfway around the world and find out what she's like as a woman.' William unwound his long legs from under the desk and rose. 'Some things you can't do by proxy, and taking brides is one of them. Okay, Harriet, there are things we need to do. If you and Walter can cope, let's get this place organised so I can get myself married.'

  'But, Mr Brand...' Harriet was almost speechless '...married!'

  'Hey, it's only for a year,' William said cheerfully. 'Don't look so worried. I'll be back before you know it, footloose and fancy-free. You know I'm no longer a marrying man.'

  'You're getting married...just for a year?'

  'A year's the least I can do,' he told her. 'But I'm damned if I'll be married for a minute longer. Once married was one too many times for me.'

  CHAPTER ONE

  Half a world away, William's intended bride was in trouble.

  'I've won your farm!' Ronald crowed.

  'Well, bully for you.'

  Somehow Jenni responded with her accustomed spirit, though she didn't have a clue how she managed it. She felt as if he'd been punched. Hard. According to Martha's last will and testament, which she had drawn up herself, Jenni had lost everything.

  Now what?

  Jenni Hartley was twenty-six years old, her sister Rachel was five years younger and Beth was just fifteen. What Jenni earned from the farm supported them all.

  What on earth could she do now?

  Jenni should have expected this. Ronald had wanted the farm for years and she'd suspected he'd get it. She looked bleakly at her lawyer, and old Mr Clarins came around to press her into a chair.

  'It's okay, Jenni. Let's not panic yet,' the lawyer told her, but in his heart Henry Clarins was already panicking. There was so little he could do, since Martha had not consulted him when drafting her will.

  Henry Clarins approved of Jenni Hartley. Even as a youngster, she'd fought her sisters' battles, despite some pretty ordinary parenting. Then, when she was sixteen, she'd faced her parents' deaths with sheer courage.

  And now defeat was staring her in the face. There were shadows under her green eyes, and her pale skin was even paler than normal. The jeans, oversized T-shirt and work boots she always wore made her look absurdly young, and her braid of thick black hair, plaited like that of a schoolgirl, made her look even younger.

  She was still a kid, Henry thought savagely. Jenni was a kid with the world on her shoulders, and she'd never had a chance at being young.

  'You've lost the farm,' Ronald chortled, and Henry cast Jenni's cousin a look of dislike.

  'I believe your cousin understands the terms of the will without you rubbing it in,' the lawyer said softly.

  'Well, it's not as if William's about to marry her,' Ronald said gleefully. 'I want her and her stupid sisters out by the end of the month. I don't know why my mother let her rent it in the first place. It'll sell for subdivision in a flash. A whole seaside resort... There are overseas buyers who'll develop the place as it really could be.'

  It was Jenni's lovely farm—her dream—and Ronald would destroy it just like that.

  'That's great, Ronald,' she told him bitterly. 'It'll be turned into condominiums and penthouses and parking lots, and for what? So you can have money to spend on your gambling and your drugs. You'll go through the money in a year and the farm will be gone for ever.'

  'Jenni, I contacted William,' the lawyer cut in. Ronald's eyes had narrowed to ugliness and he didn't want a scene. 'There's the clause...'

  Oh, yes. The clause. Put in by Aunt Martha as a sop to her conscience.

  Jenni had known the farm wouldn't be left to her, but she'd hoped like crazy it might be left to William—Martha's stepson. If William owned it, then maybe Jenni could keep renting.

  But Martha's stepson had left home when his father died. Sixteen years ago, William had walked away from his stepmother and stepbrother and from the farm he'd expected to inherit, and he hadn't been back since.

  They'd only heard of him through the press. A few years back, reports of William's international business dealings had started circulating. William had accumulated a fortune, and the knowledge of her stepson's success had made Martha almost sick with loathing.

  Thus her will today. Although the farm had been William's father's, Martha
had left nothing to William-- except for one spiteful clause.

  'I leave Betangera Beach Farm to my son, Ronald, unless my stepson, William, returns to Betangera within one month of my death. If William returns, I wish him to marry my sister's child, Jenni. If such a marriage takes place within six weeks of my death, and if William agrees to live here with Jenni, abandoning his precious hotels, then I leave the farm to Jenni as my wedding gift.'

  Martha's scratchy, malicious voice seemed to reach out from the grave. How many times had Jenni had to pretend to be grateful for Martha's 'charity'? 'They're my dead sister's children,' Martha had told anyone who'd listen. 'I do what I can...'

  Ha! Sanctimonious, miserable old woman! And now...

  Martha had left the farm to Jenni on impossible conditions, but her conscience would now be clear.

  'And I hope St Peter sees right through you,' Jenni said out loud, and the lawyer blinked.

  'I beg your pardon?'

  'Oh, heck.' Jenni shook her head, as if trying to clear a bad dream. 'I'm sorry. I was just...'

  'Just thinking about William?' Ronald leered over the desk at her. 'I wouldn't waste your thoughts. As if he's coming home. As if he'd marry you if he did...'

  Right on cue, the door opened and William walked in.

  William Brand...

  There was no mistaking who he was. Jenni blinked and stared. She'd seen pictures of William in the press, and she had vague memories of him as a gangly adolescent, but reality was something else. Jenni just had to look at him to know why her cousin hated him.

  Ronald had tanned skin and black hair. So did William. That was as far as similarities went.

  Ronald was about five feet eight, and bordering on fat. William was over six feet tall and solidly built, but every inch was muscle. He had broad shoulders, a muscled chest tapering to narrow hips, and legs that were built like tree trunks.

  This was a body to die for. Whew! Jenni blinked again.

  The men's dress sense was poles apart as well. Ronald wore tight, black trousers that accentuated his paunch, a black T-shirt and an expensive leather jacket which needed cleaning. William wore tailored, quality trousers and a short-sleeved, open necked shirt.

  And unlike Ronald's thinning hair—hauled back in a greasy pony-tail that made Jenni feel ill—William's jet-black hair was thick, short, clean and tousled, as if he'd just come from walking on the beach. He looked casual. Nice.

  And William's face...

  Jenni looked up into William's eyes and found herself close to smiling. William's eyes did that to people. They were set wide apart, and were open and direct, with laughter lines crinkling the edges. They were grey-black and gorgeous! His face was strongly boned. His wide mouth quirked upwards into a smile...

  William smiled at her now, but it was a cursory smile— and then he turned to face Ronald.

  The smile died.

  'Well, little brother...' he said softly. 'Well, well.'

  'William.' Ronald's voice was an appalled snap. 'What are you doing here?'

  'I came home for my stepmother's funeral.' William's voice was urbane and pleasant and smooth as silk. It made Jenni shiver. 'Only to find it took place this morning.' He smiled again, but this time his smile wasn't nearly as pleasant. 'My people let me know of my stepmother's death and I came as soon as I could.'

  My people...

  What power lay in those two words! They implied a whole team of employees whose only job was to serve William Brand. Jenni felt Ronald's hate flowing in waves. There was no love lost between these stepbrothers. No love at all.

  'I don't know why you bothered to come,' Ronald said fretfully. 'There's nothing here for you. It's not as if you even liked my mother.'

  'Our mother,' William corrected him. 'That's what she always insisted she was. Replacement to my own mother. Wife of my father. Inheritor of my father's wealth. But, yes, you're right, of course. I didn't like her. Nor do I like you. I disliked you intensely sixteen years ago when I was eighteen, and I dislike you even more now.'

  And then, as Ronald's eyebrows rose in query, he nodded. 'Oh, yes, I've been keeping tabs on you. I know more than you think.'

  'What do you know?' Ronald's voice was high-pitched and querulous. 'What I do is none of your business.'

  'No,' William said mildly. 'It isn't. But I'm wondering... Who will you turn to now, Ronald, without your mother around to pull you out of trouble?'

  'I won't need to turn to anyone.'

  'Oh, that's right.' William nodded, and once again it was all Jenni could do not to shiver. William's words were so ordinary... so urbane... yet there was something behind them that made Ronald cringe. 'You intend to be wealthy.'

  'I am wealthy.' Ronald's sneer came back again. 'You can't stop me getting my mother's money.'

  'No,' William agreed. 'I can't stop you inheriting Martha and my father's joint home and what remains of my father's fortune—though I've heard you've spent most of the money and mortgaged the house. What interests me is my father's farm. I just might be able to stop you getting your greedy little hands on that.'

  'How do you mean?' Ronald's face whitened. 'You can't. It's mine.' His look suddenly sharpened into one of avarice. 'Unless... Of course, you can buy it from me if you want it so much. It's for sale for the right price, and I hear you have enough money.'

  'No way.' William shook his head. He hadn't moved from his place by the door. It was as if he was here to give a message and then leave again. He didn't glance at Jenni or at Henry. His attention was only on Ronald. 'You see, I know what the farm's worth, and there's no way I'd give that sort of money to you. In fact, I'd go to long, long lengths to see you never get it.'

  Then he paused, and for the first time a note of uncertainty crept into William's voice. He turned to face Jenni.

  'So much so that, if Jenni's agreeable, I'll even take myself a wife,' he said softly. 'Unless I'm mistaken...' His eyes ran over Jenni, assessing her against some mental image. Against some faded memory of freckles and pigtails. His smile flared again as the mental image fitted. 'Well, well. You've grown but...you are Jenni?'

  'Y...yes.' As a response, it was dumb and faltering, but it was all Jenni could think of to say. She could only stare.

  It was enough. William's smile returned in full, and this time it wasn't sinister. It was even touching on fabulous.

  This was some man!

  'I'm very pleased to meet you again, Jenni,' he said softly. 'You've improved enormously since you were ten, but you're still the same pigtailed kid. But now... Jenni, how do you feel about marrying me?'

  The room stilled.

  Jenni's jaw dropped.

  'I...' She shook her head, as if clearing a fog. 'What...?' Her voice faltered to nothing. Too much was happening too fast, and her normally quick mind was numb.

  But Ronald was ready to fill the breach. 'Don't be stupid,' he snapped. The colour was draining from his face. He was frightened, Jenni saw, as she stared at both men in astonishment. Stupid or not, Ronald thought his stepbrother was serious.

  But William was no longer looking at Ronald. His attention was all on Jenni.

  'Mr Clarins, will you excuse us?' he asked the lawyer, his eyes still on Jenni's face. 'Jenni and I have things to discuss. Jenni, will you come with me?'

  Come with him...

  The last time Jenni had met this man, she'd been ten years old and William had been eighteen. She'd been a child— William's cousin by marriage, attending William's father's funeral with her parents. She couldn't remember exchanging two words with him.

  She remembered her father speaking of him in the car on the way home. 'I don't know what's to become of that young man,' he'd said. 'I don't understand why his father didn't provide for him in a will. He's a decent kid, but Martha has it in for him.'

  That was the last Jenni had heard of him for years. William had walked away from his inheritance, and now...

  Now she knew absolutely nothing about this man—and he was talking of marriage?


  Good grief!

  So what should she do here? What should she make herself say?

  Jenni turned to stare at her horrible cousin. Ronald stared blankly back. Fear was still on his face, but behind the fear there was contempt. Ronald didn't give a damn about Jenni or her sisters. He'd have her off the farm, and she'd be left with nothing.

  But William... Marriage...

  'Jenni, I'm serious here,' William said softly. 'Come with me and we'll talk.'

  Serious. Ha!

  But, amazingly, Ronald's white face showed he believed his mother's malicious clause might damage his chances.

  Ronald's fear couldn't last long, but Jenni gloried in it. Ronald was a bully and a thief, and he'd hurt her badly over the years. If she could stretch out the moment...

  So Jenni finally managed to pull herself together. Her mouth curved into a smile, her customary sense of humour resurfacing. William was clearly crazy. Marry her! It was one crazy proposition, but if it made Ronald cringe for just a few minutes it was worth it.

  'You'd like us to go and buy a marriage licence right now?' she asked, and there was laughter in her voice. 'Okay, William,' she said blithely, and she rose and took his arm. It was a very wifely gesture, except her battered jeans didn't quite match William's immaculately tailored trousers and shirt—and she was about eight inches shorter than him— and she looked a country hick to his city sophisticate.

  But still... William was playing games with Ronald, and she needed to join in. Let Ronald sweat!

  'Let's go, then.' Jenni smiled up at William in wifely conspiracy. 'If you think it's a good idea, William...well, let's get ourselves married.'

  CHAPTER TWO

  They were a block from the lawyer's office before Jenni found her voice again, and when she did the laughter was gone.

  'William, stop.'

  Then, as the man beside her paused, she fought for words to say what she must. It was time now to end it. The joke was over.

  'William, my truck's here. I'll leave you now.'

  'Jenni, we need to talk.' William's voice was back to being urbane, smooth as silk. William was in business mode.