“You might tell me what this is all about, Sonya. An engagement?” She lifted her arched brows, her expression grave, but withholding judgment.
“I’m sorry, Lady Palmerston. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Call me Rowena, dear,” Rowena said impatiently. “Marcus of all people to totally lose his head,” she lamented. “Why, you’re hardly more than a child.”
“I’m twenty-five.”
“A great age!” Rowena scoffed. “Marcus is thirty years older.”
“So what should I have done?” Sonya implored. “I thought I had found a friend. I wasn’t looking for a partner.”
“Good Lord, Sonya, you must have had some idea where it was all going? An intelligent young woman like you.”
“I regret I didn’t speak out earlier. Initially it was the last thing I expected. I admire Marcus. He’s a dear, distinguished man. Not an easy thing to tell him what he didn’t want to hear. In my own defence I have to say I didn’t encourage him. I didn’t give him to understand our friendship was moving to another stage. Surely a smile isn’t a big come-on? Enjoyment in good conversation? Sharing the things we have in common? I know all about loss, just as Marcus does. The trouble with rich people is they think they can have anything and anyone they want.” She waved an agitated hand in front of her face.
Rowena considered. “There may be a touch of that,” she frankly admitted. “But why, oh, why did you wear Lucy’s emeralds, Sonya? That was a huge mistake. You’ve no idea how much gossip that caused.”
“Gossip won’t kill me,” she said hardily. “People can say what they want.” Sonya lifted her head to give Rowena a high mettled look. “Marcus was insistent. I had no idea the necklace would be so grand. There was such a look of pleasure in his eyes. For a moment I thought he was even on the verge of tears. I should have refused, but I was loath to take that light out of his face. My mistake.”
“Well, it certainly put you in the line of fire,” Rowena said quietly. “All of a sudden people are intensely interested in you. Who are you exactly? They all know now you’re a florist. In my view the best florist in town, but a working girl.”
“So, tough to be a working girl!” Sonya exclaimed with a satirical edge. “Naturally I masterminded a plan to land myself a millionaire.”
Rowena took Sonya’s arm. “My dear, you know as well as I do, it’s every other young woman’s goal to marry a millionaire.”
“It is not mine.” Sonya enunciated the words very clearly. “As it happens no one, including you, Lady Palmerston, knows the extent of my finances.”
“How would I know?” Rowena asked in exasperation. “You never talk about yourself, Sonya. It’s as though you’re afraid to let anyone come near. I can see your attraction to Marcus. Marcus wouldn’t have pressed you for information. I’m here for you, my dear. I like you. More, I’ve come to care for you. I readily understand how you’ve come to find a place in Marcus’s heart. But your life before you came to this country appears to be a closed book. You’re obviously well bred—” She broke off as if bewildered by Sonya’s stand.
“I promise you, Lady Palmerston, I will tell you all about myself when I can.” Sonya gently pressed her arm.
“So, no Rowena?” Rowena smiled.
Sonya’s expression was intense. “I have such respect for you, Lady Palmerston, I think I should work up to calling you Rowena.”
“As you wish, my dear.” Rowena glimpsed another Sonya, a young woman from a different background, a different world. Sonya gave such an impression of poise, of near regal self-assurance, then, out of the blue, a hint of a scared little girl. What did it all mean?
Two days after Marcus Wainwright was discharged from hospital he suffered, as others in similar circumstances had suffered before him, the one fatal heart attack. Even with a warning his death came as a pulverizing shock.
David received the news first from Marcus’s distraught housekeeper, who found him lying on his side in bed. No sign of life, beyond any doubt. The housekeeper had once been a nursing sister.
From then on he took charge. News of the death of Marcus Wainwright couldn’t be contained. His parents had to be advised. He fully expected them to return on the first available flight. He didn’t tell them when he rang Marcus had fallen in love with a beautiful young woman decades his junior. He didn’t divulge the fact Marcus had given her a magnificent diamond engagement ring. That definitely would have to wait. The entire Wainwright clan had to be advised. A hell of a thing. This was a tragedy that had been waiting to happen. Too late Marcus had come to a decision to take good care of himself.
Then of course there was Sonya.
Sonya was in for a very bad time unless he could control the media.
He knew from long experience he couldn’t. The media would have a field day. And what of Marcus’s will? If Marcus had been so sure he could persuade Sonya to marry him, wouldn’t he have had the family solicitors draw up a new will? Sonya would surely be a beneficiary. He knew in the existing will he had been the principal beneficiary. Marcus had told him. If Marcus had had a new will drawn up it could be argued in court—if it ever came to that— Marcus was a sick man, indeed a dying man, infatuated by a young woman decades his junior. Marcus had been in a state of high confusion. How could a strange young woman of no background lay claim to what could very well be a substantial part of a considerable fortune? The inferences drawn would inevitably be that Sonya had worked on Marcus to change his will.
His mouth went dry at the thought of what his parents would make of it all. Both were formidable people to be approached with nigh on reverence. Grief might very well turn to outrage. Sonya might be an extremely beautiful, highly intelligent young woman with an unmistakable look of good breeding, but he and Rowena between them knew very little about her. One would have thought she was an orphan without family. Once the news broke she would go from an unknown to a high-profile woman. The woman in Marcus Wainwright’s life.
By the time the press finished with her there would be nowhere to hide.
He didn’t want to tell her over the phone. That would be too cruel. Though he couldn’t spare the time he took a taxi to the trendy shopping conclave where she had her florist shop. No time for him to find a park for his own car.
Sonya knew, the instant she caught sight of David, something was very wrong. Her heart began a relentless banging against her ribs. No one was in the shop. She had been busy earlier on, now she was grateful for the lull.
“It’s Marcus, isn’t it?” She searched his brilliant dark eyes. He was noticeably pale beneath his deep tan. “He’s had a relapse?”
“Worse than that, Sonya.” He held her eyes, feeling a heavy sense of guilt along with the grief. He wanted her as he had never wanted anyone before. “There’s no easy way to tell you this. Marcus is dead.”
“No, no, dear God, no! “ She staggered, clutching at the counter for support. “How could this happen? They released him from hospital. I spoke to him last night.”
“Heart attacks happen, Sonya, despite everything,” he said with a heavy heart. “This one has been waiting to happen, I’m afraid. We can’t delay. I want you out of here.”
“I can’t stay anyway.” She was clearly in great distress.
“No, you can’t.” His emotions were so strong he found himself speaking too harshly. “You have to shut up shop. I’ll help you. You’ll have to make it until further notice or bring in staff. That can be worked out. You won’t be able to come back once the news breaks.”
“I’m