Husband by Arrangement

by Sara Wood

‘Right,’ she said decisively. ‘I’d like to come to church with you. And, yes. Lunch. But I want to tell her the truth.’

  His wandering finger stilled. ‘That you don’t want to marry me?’ he asked softly.

  How could she lie? ‘That my peculiar clothes and behaviour during that dinner were my way of making myself unacceptable,’ she replied adroitly. ‘I don’t want her to think I’m really like that. And another thing. I’m wearing something demure of my own. I’m not walking into church with a bare tummy.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad you’re coming,’ he said and kissed her so sweetly that she felt dizzy. ‘I’ll put some water on to heat for a wash; you make breakfast and put it in the warming oven till we’re all pink and shining.’

  It was, he thought, like being married. Or even better. Maddy and Luisa were very different, but he had to admit that with Maddy he felt more vital, more full of fire and energy. Luisa had been balm to his tortured soul. Maddy had the ability to both soothe and arouse his senses. An extraordinary quality to possess.

  And when she emerged later, dressed in a soft cream dress which flared from a fitted waist, he felt the breath catch in his throat.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he said in wonder, his deep voice reverberating with emotion.

  Sparkling-eyed, her mouth curved in shy delight, she blushed to the roots of her neatly combed hair.

  ‘It’s handmade and horribly ancient,’ she demurred.

  ‘Then it’s you. Nothing to do with your clothes. And what’s with this modesty?’ he demanded. ‘Where’s the sassy woman I made love to last night?’

  Maddy laughed. ‘Oh, she’s here!’ she giggled. ‘I do a chameleon act, didn’t you know? And you look dishy in your suit,’ she murmured, moving towards him admiringly. Her hand stroked his well-cut lapel and shaped to the contours of his chest. Then she looked up at him, happiness in every line of her lovely face. ‘I’m having such a wonderful time,’ she said shakily.

  ‘Me too.’

  He sounded husky. No wonder. His emotions were all over the place again. And when they’d parked in the small village square and walked quietly along the cobbled street to the small church he had an odd sensation that he would be content to live like this for the rest of his life: loving Maddy, working with her, attending church and family meals.

  Simple things. But all the more enjoyable because she was with him.

  ‘Dex!’

  He turned at his grandmother’s surprised call, exchanged smiles with Maddy and waited till the tall, puzzled figure had caught up with them.

  ‘Grandmama,’ he murmured, kissing her cheeks. He looked at her closely and saw with a pang of concern that she seemed thin and drawn. ‘You remember Maddy, of course.’

  ‘How do you do, Mrs Fitzgerald?’ Maddy said gravely.

  Sofia did a double take, then remembered her manners.

  ‘How—how do you do?’ she replied faintly.

  ‘Maddy has said she would like to have lunch with us,’ he said gently.

  It occurred to him that his grandmother’s look of alarm might have something to do with the fact that they always began Sunday lunch with soup. He stifled a grin and studied the shine on his shoes.

  ‘Very well,’ his grandmother said graciously. ‘I’m pleased to see that Dexter has had some influence on your wardrobe, Maddy.’

  ‘She—’

  ‘I’m glad you approve,’ Maddy broke in, interrupting his protest that her dress was not his doing.

  ‘You look…quite acceptable,’ Sofia said.

  Seeing his grandmother’s brain was whirling with possibilities, Dex crushed an amused smile and offered an arm to each of the women. They all walked into the little whitewashed church together.

  ‘Oh, it’s quite lovely!’ whispered Maddy, awed by the colourful frescos.

  Organ music—a piece by Bach, he thought—billowed around the bright interior, filling it with the sound of joy. All through the service, Dex felt a new serenity settling on him. As Maddy’s incomparable voice soared rapturously to the rafters above, her face sweetly earnest, he sang with a deeper knowledge of human love than he’d ever known.

  ‘You have a good voice,’ Sofia said to Maddy when they were outside again, their heads reeling with the impassioned hallelujahs which had ended the final hymn.

  ‘I’m in the church choir at home,’ Maddy told her absently. ‘And I teach Sunday school.’

  ‘You?’ Sofia blinked.

  ‘Mmm. The parables are a particular favourite with the children,’ she said, her expression soft and wistful. ‘We act out stories like the Good Samaritan, and have a lot of fun strewing seed on stony ground and so on,’ she added with a giggle. ‘I’m highly skilled in turning loo rolls into shepherds and Magi, too.’

  ‘Fancy!’ was all she could say.

  And for a while Dexter was speechless too. ‘Before we have lunch,’ he said eventually, ‘Maddy has something to tell you. Why don’t you both sit on the seat in the square, beneath the jacaranda trees, and I’ll take a stroll?’

  ‘Good idea.’ Maddy took Sofia’s arm and firmly marched her off to the square. ‘Shall we?’ she said politely, indicating the seat.

  ‘What are you up to?’ Sofia asked suspiciously.

  ‘Nothing awful.’ Maddy sat beside her and took a deep breath. ‘I’m just putting the record straight,’ she said, and explained the whole story.

  When she’d finished, Sofia sat in stupefaction. ‘You…you worked in a children’s home? You’re not brash and brassy and dedicated to shopping?’

  Maddy laughed. She felt so much better for confessing. ‘No! It doesn’t go with my Sunday-school-teacher image!’

  ‘You don’t want to be a—a lap dancer?’ Sofia squeaked.

  ‘Heaven forbid! I did tell the truth about that—I had talked about it with my friends,’ she said hastily. ‘We all agreed we couldn’t understand how people had the nerve to do the job.’

  ‘And…forgive me, I have to ask…the soup?’

  Maddy put her hand on Sofia’s. To her surprise, she didn’t snatch it away. ‘I was trying very hard to make you all dislike me,’ she pointed out earnestly.

  ‘You succeeded,’ Sofia said drily. ‘I couldn’t believe you could be so insensitive and—’

  ‘Oh! Yes! I nearly forgot!’ Maddy exclaimed, squeezing Sofia’s hand in her concern. ‘I didn’t know about the fire. Grandpa hadn’t told me or I wouldn’t have come. And I certainly wouldn’t have capered about so merrily, either. I’m awfully sorry. It must have been a dreadful experience. Please forgive me.’

  Sofia’s mouth pinched in. No, it was wavering. She was trying not to laugh! And now she was smiling…grinning…Oh, thank goodness! Maddy thought. She was laughing!

  ‘You are a wicked girl,’ Sofia reproved, but there was a wonderful twinkle in her eye. ‘And very resourceful. I am impressed.’ She beamed. ‘I must say, I did feel invigorated by you that first evening. The atmosphere was like a mortuary until you breezed in. And then when you clapped the pianist so enthusiastically I wanted to join in. But my stupid, stubborn pride stopped me.’ Sofia gave a low chuckle. ‘Your dance set the whole place alight. I was terrified that Dex had fallen for you, hook, line and sinker!’

  Maddy managed to keep her smile going. ‘I did enjoy it,’ she confessed. ‘After a lifetime of being subdued and merging into the background, it felt wonderful to let rip.’

  ‘Your grandfather keeps you on a tight rein,’ Sofia said shrewdly.

  ‘Bridled and blinkered,’ Maddy replied with a rueful grimace. ‘He’s only trying to protect me, I know. It can’t have been easy for him, being saddled with an eleven-year-old girl.’

  ‘No.’ Sofia averted her gaze.

  ‘Tell me—’ Maddy began, but she changed tack when Sofia tensed noticeably. She’d ask Dexter what had happened. ‘Why did you and he want to marry us off to one another?’ she queried instead.

  ‘My dear, your grandfather and I are getting old. We worry about you both.
He’s afraid you won’t be able to manage on your own. I am worried that Dexter will never settle down and will roam around the world for the rest of his life. He needs a wife and children.’

  ‘Children,’ Maddy said, choked.

  ‘I thought that the gentle, sensitive little Maddy would be perfect.’

  She blinked in surprise. ‘Is that how you remember me?’ she asked in astonishment.

  Sofia’s hand cradled Maddy’s face in affection. ‘As a wide-eyed, sweet child who adored the Quinta and everything in it,’ she said softly. ‘Oh, I know I was too strict with you. I’ll never forgive myself. But with so little input from your mother, your father was letting you run wild, and I was afraid you’d turn into a hooligan.’

  ‘I understand,’ Maddy said.

  ‘Dear child, to be so forgiving.’ She sighed, her eyes misty. ‘I was right in choosing you for Dex. I thought your care and concern for others would be just what he needs.’ Her face cleared and she laughed in delight. ‘That’s why I was so shocked when you turned up in that red corset and began to set the hotel and everyone in it about its ears! Come on. Here he is. Let’s have lunch, shall we? I want to hear all about your life in England.’

  ‘Everything all right?’ Dex asked cautiously when he reached them.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Sofia, beaming broadly.

  But Maddy had to force her smile. Dex shouldn’t be denied children. She wasn’t right for him. Even though she loved him with every fibre of her being.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THEY sat beside the hotel pool after a very harmonious lunch, drinking strong black coffee. After a while, Sofia drained her cup and gave a sigh.

  ‘Time for my nap. All this chatting has exhausted me. No, you needn’t accompany me to my room, Dex,’ she scolded mildly as he and Maddy jumped to their feet. ‘I know the way. I’m not decrepit yet.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that, Grandmama,’ he said with a wry smile.

  ‘I’ll see you again, Maddy,’ Sofia said firmly.

  ‘I’ll be going back to England soon,’ she said.

  ‘Are you?’ The old lady looked at her carefully as if weighing her up. ‘That would be a shame.’

  Maddy flushed, pleased that she had made her peace with Sofia.

  ‘I’ll see you before I go.’

  ‘You certainly will!’ Sofia said with spirit, and walked briskly away.

  ‘She likes you,’ Dexter mused.

  Maddy smiled. ‘And she adores you.’

  He gave a small laugh. ‘I think not.’

  ‘She hangs on your every word. Besides, she told me so when you were ordering our coffees at the bar.’

  ‘But… She’s never said—!’

  ‘She keeps her love deep inside,’ Maddy said gently. ‘I think she’s been hurt and is afraid of your rejection. But she admires you and longs for you to live here. She’s missed you desperately.’

  He shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘All I get is criticism—’

  ‘I noticed that.’ She put her hand on his arm and lifted her earnest face up to his. ‘But she admitted that she wants you to be perfect. To make no mistakes. That way you’ll suffer no setbacks or problems.’

  ‘You’re an extraordinary person, Maddy,’ he said quietly.

  She sighed, wishing she could be perfect for him. A whole woman.

  ‘I have flaws, like everyone else.’

  Dexter took her hand and held it tightly. ‘This may sound like an odd invitation, but…would you like to visit the cemetery where your parents are buried?’

  Her eyes widened in gratitude. ‘I’d like that very much, Dex. Thank you. Thank you! I’d hoped to get there some time during this visit but I can’t remember where the cemetery is. I was only eleven, you see, and when we drove there I was in floods of tears and Grandpa was growling at me to be quiet.’

  His eyes were full of pity. Gently he stroked the nape of her neck.

  ‘We’ll go right away if you like,’ he said gently. ‘Your parents are buried at Bensafrim. Mine…are elsewhere.’

  She gave a nervous laugh. Her lower lip quivered and he took her into his arms. Hugging him, she said chokily into his ear, ‘Grandpa wouldn’t tell me what happened. He just blurted out that my parents and yours had been in an accident and were dead. Every time I tried to ask him what had happened he got into a terrible state. He said talking about it all would never bring them back, so what was the point? I was frightened I’d lose him if I pushed for an answer. So I feel a huge part of my life is unaccounted for.’

  ‘Then I must fill in the missing pieces for you,’ he said huskily.

  Bensafrim turned out to be a tiny little village a short distance to the north. They parked by a gate which she vaguely remembered and, carrying the flowers and the vase she’d bought with Dex’s help, she walked with him into the tiny cemetery.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, clutching his hand very tightly. ‘This is it. All these graves, those with railings around…the little chapel…and—and the wall all around with—with recesses for graves. I can’t remember much else. I was crying non-stop.’

  He squeezed her hand reassuringly and then put his arm around her shoulder.

  ‘I’ll help you look. Let’s start by the chapel.’

  The sun beat down on them. The whitewashed walls, about six or seven feet high, had the effect of keeping the pleasant breeze out. Consequently the atmosphere in the small cemetery seemed stifling.

  ‘Here,’ Dex said, a short distance ahead of her.

  She took a deep breath. The marble which had been placed in front of recess number ninety-three was difficult to read because the black paint had worn off the carved letters. Trembling, she crouched down and peered at it.

  “‘In loving memory of James and Carlotta Cook,’” she whispered. Her father and her mother… “‘So tragically taken.” Oh, Dex, it’s so sad!’

  The date was only decipherable when she felt it with her fingers. She couldn’t have seen it anyway, her eyes had become misty with tears.

  ‘There’s a tap by the gate,’ Dex said gently. ‘I’ll take the vase and fill it for you.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Numb, she stared at her parents’ grave, thinking of the sense of abandonment she’d felt when they’d died. And she wondered why Dex’s parents had been buried elsewhere. She began to cry helplessly.

  She’d never been able to unravel in her mind what must have happened. Or to come to terms with the fact that shortly before the accident her father had abandoned her by disappearing with another man’s wife.

  Tears streamed down her face. She stepped closer and clenched her fists.

  ‘How could you?’ she sobbed. ‘How could you run off, intending never to see me again?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that, I promise,’ Dex said huskily, wrapping her in his embrace.

  She wept into his chest, her body heaving with misery. Was she destined never to be with the people she loved? she asked herself in a rare outburst of self-pity.

  ‘Hush. Hush,’ Dex soothed. ‘It’s all right. It really is.’

  Patiently he waited until she was calmer, with only the occasional body-racking sob lurching through her body.

  ‘Now,’ he said, tenderly drying her eyes, ‘I’ll fix the vase in the brackets, you arrange the flowers, and then I’ll tell you what happened. All right?’

  ‘Yes.’ She snuffled, aching because he was such a kind and caring man.

  And he would belong to someone else one day. Would comfort another woman when she was upset. Make love…

  A huge, shuddering sob wrenched its way out of her mouth in a wail of misery.

  Deftly Dexter finished securing the vase, stuffed the flowers in anyhow and drew her firmly away to sit in the shade.

  After this she would have to leave. Her teeth drove into her lower lip and she hugged Dexter tightly.

  ‘Tell me,’ she whispered, desperately unhappy.

  His hand lightly caressed the silky crown of her he
ad.

  ‘I suppose it began with a mistake,’ he said quietly. ‘You probably remember that your mother was very beautiful?’

  She searched her memory. ‘Not really. I was too concerned with the fact that she didn’t love me,’ she mumbled.

  ‘It wasn’t that simple,’ Dex said. ‘You see, your father might have been madly in love with her at first, but the relationship was destined to fail.’

  ‘Why?’ she muttered.

  ‘Because your mother adored cities and shopping and hated the countryside. She loathed the Quinta and became cold and dissatisfied. To be frank, she was something of a shrew and a nag.’

  ‘Yes,’ Maddy mumbled, a bitterness like gall in her throat. There had been rows. ‘I remember now.’

  ‘It wasn’t her fault. Both of them had chosen badly. Misery can warp people’s characters, sweetheart. Joy brings out the best in them.’

  ‘True,’ she said in a small voice, grateful for his understanding. She didn’t want her mother to be the cruel, shrill woman she envisaged whenever she thought of her.

  ‘My father was also disappointed,’ Dex said quietly. ‘In me. He’d wanted a tough, games-playing hero for a son, and he got a skinny runt with weak eyesight.’

  ‘He was awful to you,’ she said darkly.

  ‘I’d ruined his dreams.’

  ‘If only he could see you now—’

  ‘Yes.’

  She fell silent. There were too many ‘if only’s on the tip of her tongue.

  ‘What about your mother?’ she asked, lifting her head so that she could see his face.

  And he smiled with such sweetness that she felt her heart lurch uncontrollably.

  ‘She adored everyone. Saw good in them all. I don’t think I could have survived without her. When I was quite small—seven or eight—she saw that I had a flair with plants and coaxed your father into letting me work with him.’ He hesitated. ‘I hated your father for years because I believed that he enticed my mother away from me and split our families asunder. Now I understand how the power of passion can carry you away. Of course they fell in love. They were twin souls. They couldn’t help it because they were destined to be together. Both of them were unhappy, both of them were generous and kind with the same passions in life.’