by Trisha David
But Jenni was no longer in the mood for anything but essentials. The joke had passed, weariness was washing over her in waves, and all she wanted to do was to get home, shove her head under a pillow and howl.
'No.' She sighed. 'William, you've given Ronald a fright and I guess he deserves it, but there really is nothing you can do. He gets the farm.'
'The marriage clause still stands.' William was watching her strangely.
'I know. But there's no way you'd want to marry me.' She took a deep breath. 'Or me you, for that matter. I'm not in the market for a husband, so there's an end of it.'
'But...you would like to inherit the farm?'
'Don't play with me.' Jenni's weariness now was beyond belief. Tomorrow she'd have to start making plans. And tonight? She'd have to tell Rachel. Tell Beth.
Tell them what? That Rachel would have to leave university? She was in her third year, studying medicine. To leave now...
And Beth... Dear heaven, Beth...
'Jenni, I'm serious here.' William's voice was sharp now, as if trying to penetrate her fog of unhappiness. 'If you have no one else in mind as a husband...well, I don't mind marrying you.'
That got through. Jenni's eyes widened.
'You're never serious?'
'I told you—I am.'
'But... why?'
The crazy question hung between them in the warm sea air. Belangera was a market town. Tuesday was market day so Betangera was busy on Tuesdays, but this was Friday. At dawn the fishing fleet went out, and at dusk the fishermen came in. The rest of the time—as now—the town slept in the sunshine like a lazy cat.
There was no one around. No one except William and Jenni.
William and Jenni and one preposterous suggestion.
'But I don't want to get married,' Jenni said flatly.
'Why? Are you already smitten?'
'Smitten?' Jenni frowned, confused. 'I beg your pardon?'
'You know. Smitten. Besotted. Betrothed.' William smiled down at her, his dark eyes dancing. It was all Jenni could do not to smile right back.
'No, but...'
'Are you destined for the nunnery? Or... You're not a lesbian!'
The man was laughing! A preposterous suggestion like this, and the man was laughing!
'No.' Jenni shook her head, and her braid swung out behind her. 'But marriage... No way!'
'But that's what I've travelled half a world to do. To marry you.'
'Why?' Jenni said again, her eyes searching his. Trying to find sense behind the laughter.
'Because I don't like Ronald.'
'Half the world doesn't like Ronald,' Jenni said carefully. 'But half the world isn't offering to marry me.'
'I can stop Ronald inheriting my father's farm if you marry me. Believe me, that means more to me than anything.'
Silence. The silence went on and on, echoing across the sea. A couple of gulls wheeled around their heads, and then veered off down to the harbour in search of something more interesting.
And still the silence went on.
'You know, I really don't like Ronald,' Jenni said at last. 'But I don't hate him.' She looked up at William and read his grim face. The laughter had now disappeared completely. This man was totally in earnest. 'Not like you. Not so I'd do something desperate.'
'Would it be desperate to marry me?'
That was a crazy question.
Marriage! Jenni had never considered marriage. Marriage was for other women, and she didn't envy them one bit. The marriages she'd seen she hadn't liked much. Her parents... Her aunt and uncle... Ugh! No, thanks! Anyway, there wasn't time in Jenni's life for a boyfriend, much less a husband. And she didn't even know William.
'Of course it would be desperate of me to marry you,' Jenni said carefully, in a humouring-the-village-idiot type of voice. 'I don't know you. For all I know, you have ten wives already, and another three buried in your cellar. And for you to marry me... That's seriously weird!'
William's mouth twitched again and his magnetic grin reappeared. 'Not so weird. Jenni, I promise I don't bury wives in my cellar. I'll provide character references if you like. Or let you inspect my cellar. Come to think of it, I only own a penthouse, and cellars are tricky to find in penthouses. So why is it seriously weird for me to marry you?'
'Well, you don't want to, for a start.'
'I do want to.'
'Because you hate Ronald.'
'Yeah.' William smiled again, that slow, lazy smile that made his whole face light up. The smile that held Jenni in thrall. His eyes checked Jenni out, from the tip of her battered work boots to the top of her braided head, and his smile said that, despite her work-worn appearance, he totally approved. 'I do hate Ronald,' he admitted, still smiling. 'But marriage to you won't be all that much of a hardship.' And his smile broadened.
'Gee, thanks!' For the life of her, Jenni couldn't stop a blush starting. She wasn't accustomed to men looking at her as William was.
She wasn't used to men, full stop!
'L—look, this is just plain silly,' she stammered. Damn, this man had her right off balance. 'We both know it's crazy. You expect me to fall on your neck in gratitude and race straight off to the altar?'
'Nope.' William reached out and caught her hands in his. And held them, strongly and firmly. 'In this country there's a month's legal notice needed before we can marry, so we can't race anywhere. But, Jenny, this isn't silly, and I don't expect gratitude here.'
'But...'
'Jenni, think.'
Jenni stared down at her fingers. They were held fast, and she couldn't release them if she wanted to. They were strongly entwined.
William's hand was so much larger than hers.
Jenni's fingers were work-worn, her palms calloused and her nails blunt and chipped from sheer hard work.
William's hand was tanned and sinewy and strong, and the feel of his fingers holding hers did all sorts of things to Jenni Hartley.
'Think, Jenni,' he said softly. 'Don't knock me back because of stupid scruples. I need you—and I suspect that you need me.'
Oh, heck... Think, the man had ordered, but there was no way she could think. Not with him so near. Not with him so...so darned big!
For heaven's sake. What was happening to her here?
Jenni had been independent since birth and she'd been totally on her own since she was sixteen. She'd had her back to the wall since then. She was used to fighting her own battles and standing on her own two feet to defend her sisters. But suddenly... The linking of their hands shifted her foundations. Made her feel... Made her feel just how damnably alone she was. Just how hard the wall was at her back, and how insurmountable the odds were.
If this man was serious...
But, of course, he wasn't.
'Don't...' Her voice faltered. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't!
'Jenni, this is not silly,' William said, and his voice was suddenly urgent. 'I wouldn't ask you to marry me if it wasn't a serious offer. I know the farm's your home. I know...'
'How do you know?'
'I've made it my business to know.'
'But... why?'
'The farm was my home when I was a boy,' William told her. 'I lived in it with my parents until my mother died and my father remarried. Martha hated it and she forced my father to move into town, but I've kept tabs on it since then and I'll not see Ronald with it.'
'It's true, though,' Jenni said slowly. 'What Ronald said. I've read of you in the papers. You're rich. If you want it so badly then you could buy it.'
'I won't buy it from Ronald. There is no way I will ever give that creep money. If you marry me, then in twelve months you'll own the farm outright. If you wish to sell it then I'll buy it from you, but I will not buy it from Ronald.'
'In twelve months...'
'My lawyers tell me that marriage followed by twelve months of me living here away from my hotels will satisfy the requirements of the will. After that, we'll divorce and get on with our lives.'
&nb
sp; His smile deepened again. Beguiling...
'So this is not a permanent thing here, Jenni. After twelve months you can go back to your nunnery or your lesbian lover or any alternative you fancy. All you have to do is stomach me for a husband for twelve months. What do you say?'
Jenni stared. 'I say you're crazy,' she managed.
'Yes. I'm crazy.' William lifted their linked hands. He stared down at their entwined lingers, and the corners of his mouth quirked into a self-mocking smile. 'Jenni, Ronald is a crooked, vicious little thug. He was when he was seventeen and he still is.'
'But...'
But William wasn't to be interrupted. The grimness in his face deepened as he remembered. He needed her to understand.
'Jenni, when Ronald was seventeen and Martha and my father had been married for two years, Ronald held a party at our home and brought drugs on to the place. My father wasn't home. I'd just started university and Dad had come to visit me. But then... Dad came home earlier than expected and found Ronald dealing drugs.'
'Oh, no.' It didn't surprise Jenni, though. There'd been rumours of Ronald's links with the drugs trade.
'When he confronted Ronald, Ronald turned vicious,' William told her. 'Dad tried to take the drugs from him, but Ronald fought. He hit him. Not once, but over and over. And my father had a heart attack. He died the next day.'
'Oh, no...'
'My stepmother swore the bruises were caused by a fall earlier in the day,' William said heavily. 'It was only me who'd seen my father that night who knew he hadn't been bruised earlier. The weirdos—addicts—who were at the party told me what happened, but they wouldn't repeat it to the police. It was my word against Ronald's and Martha's, so there was no case to answer. End of story.'
William's mouth set in a harsh line, memory biting deep. 'I don't want sympathy here, Jenni,' he told her. 'I just want you to understand. There is no way Ronald is getting my father's farm if I can prevent it. Therefore it would give me considerable pleasure to marry you.'
'For revenge?'
'That's right.' William forced his voice to lighten. 'What better reason than revenge? And you, Jenni? You want the farm for financial security? So... Money and revenge. What better partnership? It's a marriage made in heaven. All we need to do is to say till death do us part—for a year!'
It took William another hour and three cups of coffee before he talked his intended bride around, and when he did she was still full of doubts.
'William, I can't see that it will work.'
'It will,' he told her. 'We register for marriage now. We then have a legal requirement of a month's wait before we can marry. I'll use that month to set things up. I'll go back to the States tonight to sort things out. I'll fix up an office on the farm and put in extra phone lines so I can use e-mail and teleconferencing and fax. I'll work from the farm. You'll hardly see me.'
'So...you're sure it would be okay? The lawyers would accept a marriage in name only?' Jenni asked doubtfully, staring at the dregs of her coffee.
'I'll need to sleep in the house,' William said. 'I've gone into it. As soon as I heard from Mr. Clarins after Martha died I consulted my lawyers and they've laid it on the line. We need to be seen as man and wife, and Ronald will be desperate enough to have us checked. We'll be watched. But...'
His engaging grin slipped out again and held her. 'But once the blinds are down we can do what we want. Which is—exactly nothing. You needn't worry, Jenni. I don't want a real wife. I can sleep on a sofa for twelve months—as long as it's a long sofa.'
'You must really hate him,' Jenni said slowly, trying to block out the thought of William' s long body on her small sofa.
'Why? How hard is your sofa?'
But Jenni refused to smile. With difficulty she managed to block out sleeping arrangements, and she stared across the table at William with troubled eyes. She didn't know this man, and the hate...
The hate scared her. To feel like this. To be so hate-filled that he'd marry someone like her...
William saw her doubt. And once again his hand closed over hers in a gesture of reassurance. Nothing more.
'Jenni, I'm not here on some vendetta with guns blazing,' he said softly. 'I only need to get something back that I value. Martha and Ronald milked my father dry, and then they killed him, so I need to do this, but that's as far as it goes. Marry me and there's an end to it. You'll have a boarder on the farm for a year, Jenni, but you'll be left alone and there'll be no vendetta. I promise.'
'But... I don't know how someone like you could live on the farm,' Jenni said doubtfully, looking across the table at his lovely linen shirt and his beautifully tailored trousers. 'I mean...'
'I lived on the farm as a boy.'
'It's changed.'
'Show me.' William rose and held out his hand in an imperious gesture. 'Come on, Jenni. Show me what changes you've made to the farm where your about-to-be-husband will live for the next twelve months of his life.'
Marrying William. Marriage! What on earth could she tell Beth and Rachel? She hardly understood this herself.
Jenni drove her ancient truck out to the farm with William following behind in his sleek Mercedes sports hire car and the closer she got to the farm, the crazier the whole thing seemed.
Marry William?
Good grief.
And yet... This afternoon Jenni had climbed into the truck and headed off to the lawyer's office knowing that Ronald would throw her off the farm if he inherited. William was giving her an alternative.
What was the worst that could happen? she asked herself. That William marry her and mistreat her? Ravish her? Bury her in his cellar or rob her of the farm?
If he didn't marry her then she'd lose the farm anyway. And ravished?
Unbidden, the thought of William's long, lean body flooded through her mind and she had to give herself a fast mental shake. No. She wasn't exactly terrified of a spot of ravishment.
What else was she worried about? Oh, yeah. Thuggery. Well, William was no wife-beater. No one could smile like that and beat his wife—or bury her in his cellar.
How could she know that? He was capable of hate.
He didn't hate her. Not with that smile...
The thought of William's smile lingered in her mind. Jenni looked in the rear-view mirror and she could see William following. He was too far back for her to see his face, but she could almost imagine that smile still lingering.
Marriage to William... Whew! There was some toe-curling imagery here.
And the alternative?
There was no alternative.
Without the farm Rachel would have to give up university, and for Rachel to give up medicine this far through was unthinkable. And for Beth... For Beth, especially, there was no choice.
'It seems I'll just have to marry the man,' Jenni told herself out loud, and for the life of her she couldn't stop a tiny smile curving the corners of her mouth. Marriage to William... If it really could work—to be married to a man in name only...
It would drive Ronald nuts, and there might just be added benefits.
No. Don't think about the sex angle here, she told herself fiercely. Don't!
Jenni glanced again in her rear-view mirror and her smile broadened into a full-faced grin. Even without the sex bit— hey, she'd have a man about the house. A man! Jenni usually saw men as a useless kind of species, but this one at least was strong and fit. That meant...
Jenni started thinking exactly what that meant, concentrating fiercely on the external attractions. Instead of what her toes were doing, she forced herself to think of practicalities.
The roof badly needed reshingling, and so far the thought had left her feeling exhausted. She'd been dreading it. A husband ought to help with that sort of thing.
And the pigs... Every night she fed the pigs but that gate... It was so heavy and the wood was rotten. The pig gate was enough to make her want to leave the farm all on its own.
A husband ought to help there, too.
Hey,
and the painting...
The farmhouse ceiling was sixteen feet high, and she got vertigo on a ladder when she looked upwards. Rachel usually helped, but Rachel was hardly ever home now. Jenni did it but she hated it. Whereas a husband...
All of a sudden she found herself chuckling out loud.
William Brand might think he was getting himself a quiet bride. He might think he'd be left alone with his fax and his e-mail and his sofa.
'But you might just turn out to be very useful,' Jenni told his reflection in the rear-view mirror. 'You might just get your revenge and I might keep my farm—but I also get myself a useful man about the house. As long as you keep out of my way when I don't want you. I think.' She shook off the vision of William's body with another effort, and her grin deepened.
'Hey, William, I might just see some advantages in being married after all. I might...'
If William had been able to hear what Jenni was saying he might have turned tail and headed back to the States fast.
As it was, he could hear nothing but the rumbling of her truck as it chugged on ahead of him. Good grief, when was the last time she'd had her exhaust checked?
Jenni was thinking that too as she drove and as her truck got noisier. Hey, maybe William could check the exhaust too—men knew about that sort of thing. But William didn't know she was thinking it.
He was too busy thinking about practicalities.
Like... Whether or not Jenni would wear a wedding dress?
Very important, that.
And suddenly it was important.
What would she look like dressed up? She looked really good in faded jeans and T-shirt.
Hey, get out of that, William Brand, he told himself strongly. Let's not think of Jenni as a woman here. That would complicate matters way too much.
This was strictly business. He was here to get himself married, keep Ronald from inheriting the farm, get himself divorced and get back to the States. Where he belonged. He . didn't belong here any more. The States was home.
He turned into the driveway of Jenni's farm and all of a sudden the States didn't seem like home any more either.
William stopped dead.
