‘Having changed her will in favour of her son.’
She shook her head, bleakness threatening to overwhelm her. ‘It was her right.’
‘I think I’m going to enjoy this wedding,’ Marcus said grimly and then he glanced at Peta’s pale face and obviously decided against pushing his anger further. There was another funeral waiting to happen. This wasn’t the time-or the place.
‘Let me buy you something to eat.’
‘No.’ She hauled herself together. ‘No, thank you.’
The undertaker was approaching now, an anxious little man, clearly wanting to clear the room so that the next sad little ceremony could take place. He looked at Marcus with obvious curiosity. And then his eyes widened in recognition. ‘Marcus-Marcus Benson?’
‘Yes.’ Marcus held out his hand in greeting and the man’s slightly impatient expression slipped away.
‘Don’t hurry,’ he told them. ‘There’s another funeral due but take your time.’
‘We will. Thank you.’ Marcus’s glance was dismissive but Peta edged towards the door.
‘I need to go.’
‘Stay.’
‘N-No.’
‘Are you afraid of me?’ he asked, his tone softening. ‘You know, fear’s no basis for a marriage.’
‘I’m not afraid of you. I don’t even know you. And that’s no basis for a marriage, either.’
‘No.’ He paused. ‘No, it’s not. And therein lies the problem.’
‘There’s a problem?’
‘There is.’
‘Well, then…’ She cast another uncertain glance at the curtains, as if unsure whether she should move on. But outside there was a group of mourners gathered, and the funeral director had moved back to wait respectfully by the door. He wouldn’t hurry a man of Marcus’s stature, but he was still anxious.
Hattie wasn’t behind the velvet curtain, Peta told herself. Hattie had gone.
Her future had probably gone as well. This man had offered her a solution which was as crazy as it was unworkable. What was he saying? That there was a problem?
‘Well, then.’ She did an almost visible regroup. ‘Well, then. There’s no need even to tell me what the problem is. This whole marriage idea was a crazy, unworkable plan. I need to catch a plane tomorrow and you, I’m sure, have work to do. Thank you for coming this morning. Thank you for your accommodation last night.’ Her voice faltered just a little. ‘I… I’m very grateful. I sort of needed someone.’
‘Anyone,’ he agreed, and she smiled.
‘You were a very nice anyone.’
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘Well, it’s not every day that a girl gets an offer of marriage from someone as neat as you.’ She looked over to the funeral director and gave him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s okay. We’re leaving.’ She put her hand out and shook Marcus’s, a firm shake of farewell. Moving on. Fast. Before she broke down. She didn’t know whether it was Hattie’s death or the fact that she was so far from home-or that she’d just allowed herself a glimmer of crazy hope with this mad marriage scheme…
She had to get out of there. Fast.
‘Goodbye,’ she muttered and turned away before he could see her face-but he wasn’t letting go. He held her hand and turned her back to face him. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘It’s still on,’ he told her. ‘The marriage.’ He smiled, a funny lopsided smile that was amazingly endearing. ‘Ruby says I can marry you.’
‘Well, bully for Ruby.’ She paused. ‘Your assistant gave you permission to marry?’
‘No.’ Marcus cast an uncertain glance across at the undertaker. The man’s ears were practically flapping. ‘Um… Well, yes. Ruby does the busy work. She’s figured out the things we need. The formalities. As well as that, I asked her to run the will past a couple of my lawyers. It’d be a waste if we were to marry and not be able to overturn the will.’
‘A waste,’ she said blankly.
‘Well, it would.’ He held out a placating hand to the undertaker. ‘Five more minutes.’ Then back to Peta. ‘You see, the lawyers are of the opinion that if you married me and got on the plane tomorrow and I stayed here, then Charles could argue that the marriage was a farce.’
‘So what are you saying?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Are you saying we have to consummate the marriage?’
The undertaker gave a start. The little man choked, met Marcus’s eye and carefully backed out of the door. A little. Not out of earshot.
Marcus grinned. ‘No, we don’t have to consummate the marriage.’
‘Well, that’s a relief.’
‘I thought you might say that.’
She smiled. It was a weak sort of smile but it was a smile for all that. It was the first time she’d smiled that day and it felt okay. More. It felt good.
She was so grateful to this man, she realised. Even if his crazy plan didn’t come to fruition-as it surely couldn’t-his presence over these two days had lightened her load immeasurably.
He’d made her smile. He’d made her feel as if somebody cared.
She forced herself to focus on practicalities. Somehow.
‘So we don’t consummate the marriage. What do we do?’
‘Ruby says we need a honeymoon,’ he told her. ‘It seems, legally, we need to spend some time together if we’re to be seen as truly married. I’ve just finished stitching together a deal which has taken nearly three years to pull off. Ruby tells me I haven’t taken a holiday in ten years and I guess she’s right. She’s just read me the riot act and told me that if I don’t take some time off I’ll drop dead from overwork. Anyway…’ He gave a grin that was half amused, half embarrassed. ‘Anyway, if you’d like a honeymoon… If you’d like…I could come back to Australia with you for a couple of weeks.’
She stared at him. Stunned. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I never kid.’
‘You want to come home with me?’
He grinned again. ‘There’s no need to say it like I’m a stray dog.’
‘I don’t want you.’
‘There’s gratitude.’
She tried taking a breath. It didn’t quite come off. ‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘No. I’m not sorry. I don’t want a husband.’
‘That’s good, because I don’t want a wife.’ He shrugged, still smiling. ‘But Ruby says I offered and I ought to go through with it. I’ve never been to Australia.’
‘This is crazy. You can’t just take two weeks off-for a stranger.’
‘I can-for a holiday.’
‘You mean… You’d go off on a tour or something?’
‘Ruby says I’d need to stay at your farm.’
‘Do you want to stay at my farm?’
‘No.’
‘Then…’
‘But I’m prepared to.’
She shook her head. ‘Marcus, I don’t think I can cope with that level of obligation.’
‘I can understand that. But maybe-if you want the farm badly enough, you need to swallow your pride and accept my help. Accept that I can afford to give it and accept that I’ll ask nothing in return.’ He smiled. ‘Except a small glow of virtue which I promise I’ll keep under my smug little hat.’ He caught her hands and held them, and he looked down at her, his gaze strong and sure. Compelling. ‘Are you strong enough to accept this? Taking’s hard, Peta. I know that. But-maybe you have no choice.’
His smile faded. He might be as confused as she was but he didn’t seem to be showing it. His gaze said trust me. His gaze told her he knew the direction she should take; she just had to let him take the lead. Do what he said.
To let a stranger help her in such a way… It seemed crazy. Impossible. But his eyes said trust me. His eyes said let me take the lead.
And for Peta, who’d never had anyone take the lead in her life, the concept was suddenly almost overpoweringly appealing.
‘No strings?’
‘No strings.’
‘I’ll knit you a pair of socks for Christmas.
’
‘That would be very nice,’ he told her and she choked.
‘You haven’t seen my knitting.’
‘But you’ll accept?’
‘I don’t have a choice,’ she said simply. ‘I’m very grateful. I hate that I need to be grateful, so I guess… You’re just going to have to get used to my socks!’
He ushered her next door to a coffee shop, he ordered pastries and coffee and she didn’t argue. She even ate something.
They ate in silence. She was achingly aware that he was watching her-that she was being somehow measured-but there was nothing she could do about it.
She wasn’t even sure that she minded.
‘What happened to your parents?’ he asked at last, and Peta felt her insides twist. It was as if this man could really read her mind. The sensation was incredibly unnerving.
‘My mother died having Harry,’ she told him. ‘Eclampsia. My father was killed when his tractor rolled ten years ago.’
‘And you’ve been it ever since.’
‘It?’
‘Provider.’
‘There was Hattie,’ she told him.
‘So Hattie looked after you?’
‘I was sixteen.’
‘So Hattie didn’t look after you?’
‘I was strong. I could run the farm. I loved Hattie and I couldn’t have coped without her, but she had crippling arthritis.’
‘So let me get this straight,’ he said, obviously thinking it through. ‘You were sixteen when you were left on a farm with four other children. The oldest was how old?’
‘Daniel was eleven.’
‘And your cousin? Charles?’
‘He’s a lot older than me. He left before my father died. Hattie sent her share of the farm profits to him, and we only saw him when he wanted more money.’ She bit her lip. ‘She didn’t know… Hattie didn’t understand how successful Charles was. He kept needing more.’
But Marcus wasn’t interested in how successful Charles was. He was focused on Peta. ‘So you’d have been sixteen. You were still at school?’
‘It didn’t hurt me to leave. I loved farming.’
‘You mean you had to leave.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I had to.’
‘And what about now?’
‘I run a really successful farm.’
‘Do the boys help?’
‘Of course they do. Only Daniel and Christopher are at university now and William is at a special school in the city.’ She smiled, thinking of her high-achieving brothers. ‘Daniel will be a vet and Christopher is in first year law. And William is brilliant. He won a scholarship to a special school for gifted kids.’
‘But-you support them all?’ He sounded appalled and she shook her head.
‘No. They all help. During the holidays.’
‘But the rest of the time there’s just you?’
‘And Harry.’ Her smile widened, thinking with real affection of the baby of the family. ‘Harry’s great. You’ll love…’ She caught herself and changed the tense. ‘You’d like Harry.’
‘When I meet him.’
‘There’s no need for you to meet him.’
‘There’s every need,’ he said brusquely. ‘I thought I explained it to you. Where’s Harry now?’
‘Stowing away in Daniel’s university college.’ She hesitated. ‘He was unhappy about me being away. He’s only twelve. So we thought that if he could stay with the boys he’d be happier. The kids are great. They’re looking after him. But I need to get back.’
‘I can see that you do.’ He was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘You carry all this load on your shoulders…’
‘Hey, they’re my family,’ she said, not liking his tone of absolute astonishment. ‘What would you do?’
What would he do? They stared at each other and she thought that he really didn’t have a clue. He knew nothing of what she had. Of the benefits as well as the responsibilities.
He’d turn away, she thought. He’d run. What man would willingly come within a thousand miles of the sort of responsibility she carried?
But he didn’t turn away. Instead, he glanced across her shoulder and smiled and she turned to the coffee shop window to see Ruby waving from the pavement.
‘What will I do?’ Marcus asked, his voice suddenly almost teasing. Almost laughing. He waved back to Ruby, beckoning her in. ‘I’ll tell you what to do. I’ll hand you over to Ruby to turn you into a bride. I have a deal to stitch up and then I’m free. I’ll marry you and carry you back to Australia. For two weeks. On two conditions.’
‘What are they?’
‘That you don’t make me milk a cow! And you don’t put me in charge of a twelve-year-old.’
If Marcus was forceful, Ruby was worse. She shooed Marcus back to work and outlined her plans. Which left Peta stunned. Ruby had a vision of a white wedding and nothing was going to deflect her-and the wedding was scheduled in four hours’ time.
‘I can get married in what I’m wearing,’ Peta said, totally confounded, but Ruby would have none of it.
‘Marcus Benson has half the women of the world wanting to marry him-and you’re going to wear a day dress?’ Ruby smiled, somehow managing to rob her words of offence. ‘Peta, he’s doing you a favour. The least you can do is accept in the manner it’s intended.’
It sounded reasonable-sort of. There was only one thing for it, Peta decided. She needed to swallow her pride. ‘I’m broke,’ she confessed.
Ruby hesitated, but only for a moment. ‘Yeah. You are. But Mr Benson has given me a fat cheque to outfit you for the wedding. He told me to do it subtly but I don’t know how. Except by telling you that you’d be doing all of us a favour by accepting.’
A fat cheque. Peta drew in her breath. ‘I thought I told him-’
‘Yeah, you told him. He said yesterday that he’d offended you. He said he tried to dress you as a socialite and you tossed it back in his face.’
‘I didn’t…’
‘Well, I would have, too,’ Ruby said honestly-unexpectedly. ‘And I think more of you for doing it. But throwing back corporate suits and refusing wedding gowns are different things.’
‘He’s not… I don’t see…’
‘You are marrying him,’ Ruby said gently. ‘You know you are. And you needn’t feel guilty that you’re doing so. There’s no way Marcus will marry anyone else.’
‘But I can’t accept his money,’ Peta said with distress, and Ruby reached out and gave her hand a squeeze.
‘Yes, you can. You’d be doing Marcus a real favour.’
‘How am I supposed to accept that?’ Peta demanded. ‘This is ridiculous. I know nothing about Marcus-and here he is, threatening to take over my life.’
‘He’s not, you know. He’s simply involving himself. For the first time ever.’
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘You know nothing about him?’
‘No. Apart from his awful mother. But just because his mother stuffed her life doesn’t mean he should stay isolated for ever.’
‘You know he fought in the Gulf War,’ Ruby told her, and the statement was so far out of left field that Peta blinked. Marcus had disappeared in the car that had brought Ruby here, but his presence still lingered. His coffee mug was still on the table before them and Peta found herself glancing at it as if it held some answers. Which was plainly ridiculous.
‘You know Marcus came from a poor background?’ Ruby probed.
What did this have to do with her? ‘He told me.’
‘Did he tell you he invested the first dime he ever made?’ Ruby gave a cautious sideways look. ‘He’s good at making money. Seriously good. And he’s smart. One of his stepdads introduced him to computers and the man’s never looked back. He had investments in the Internet before most people had ever heard of it. But he couldn’t escape his background-or lack of it. He was one seriously deprived kid. His mother disappeared when he was twelve and from then he was t
ruly alone. He fought tooth and nail and he got a bit behind him. When the last of his foster families threw him out, he joined the army. Heaven knows why. I’d imagine… He’d never belonged anywhere. Maybe the army promised a sense of family. Or maybe it was that he wasn’t all that interested in living.’
‘Ruby, that’s awful.’
‘So was his stint with the armed forces,’ Ruby said bluntly. ‘I’m not supposed to know this, you understand, but a sergeant in his regiment came to see him one day when Marcus was out of town. Darrell’s had a hard time-he was pretty badly scarred and down on his luck and on impulse I invited him to share lunch. So I did and I got the full story of what Marcus went through. Okay, we were on the winning side, but Darrell… He said they saw so much death. Darrell said at the start of the campaign Marcus was an outgoing guy who could share a joke but the more killing they saw the quieter he grew. And then his battalion was caught in an ambush. Most of them were killed. And for Marcus… It was the end. At least that’s the way I see it. He’s internalised it; he’s never talked about it and he’s just shrivelled. He came back and he concentrated on building an empire that’s stunned the world. But there’s nothing else. And then along comes you.’
Peta stared at her across the table, at this big kindly woman with trouble in her eyes.
‘Along came me? What have I got to do with it?’
‘He cares,’ Ruby told her. ‘For the first time. He cares what happens to you. He really cares. He’s thinking about your welfare and he’s offered to marry you. With pride. Even if the marriage will only last for two weeks, you’re the only bride he’ll ever have. Think about that, Peta. Do you really want to knock back his offer to make you a bride? You don’t think you could possibly bring yourself to play the part?’
‘But… How? Why?’
Ruby smiled, reaching across the table and taking Peta’s work-worn hands in hers. ‘All I know is that he’s agreed to stop making money for two weeks. He’s agreed to care for you a little. I think… If you were to pay him back by making it fun…’
The Last-Minute Marriage Page 7
