Apart from the money? said his cynical inner voice.
What had caused her to let down her guard? Marcus’s essential goodness, his kindness, his courtly manner. More importantly Marcus would never pry. She had told him that herself. Did she want above anything a secure place in the world? Marcus could give her that. Did she fear being swept off her feet by some driving passion that could upset all her plans? She definitely had issues. Not a whole lot of trust in people. He’d already concluded it all had to do with her past life. Did a great need to be safe drive her? He was fast reaching the conclusion she was on the run from something. Someone? How would that impact on Marcus’s plans?
There were too many question marks hanging over Ms Erickson’s head. One thing was very clear. She was an extremely fast worker. She could be the second Mrs Marcus Wainwright if she so wanted. One heard of May/December marriages all the time. But in just about every case, the man was rich. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He needed to talk to Rowena.
When he arrived at his apartment he rang Rowena to say he would be coming to Sunday lunch. Rowena always kept a marvellous table. More importantly, he and Rowena could keep an eye on proceedings and later confer.
“All right if I bring Paula?” he asked. “I know you’re not fussed on her.”
“Protection, dearest, is that it?”
He grimaced to himself. “I don’t want to be seen to be using Paula. She’d actually love to be invited.”
“Doesn’t answer the question, dear.”
“Marcus is madly in love with her, Rowena,” he said firmly. “I was at the house this afternoon. Sonya was there, putting flowers all around the place.”
“I bet they looked wonderful,” Rowena’s cultured voice fluted down the phone.
“She does have the genius touch. Did you know about this recent development?”
“Matter of fact I did. Sonia had some marvellous bromeliad stems for me. Wonderful to see with just a large green leaf hanging over the side.”
“Rowena dear, I’m sure the bromeliads looked inspirational,” he said edgily, “but what I most want to talk about is this. What is Sonya up to? She knows Marcus is in love with her. Can you really say with any degree of confidence a marriage between them might work, given the thirty-year leap? She could divorce him and get a hefty settlement. Break Marcus’s heart. That’s a huge worry.”
“It’s possible, my darling, but who is able to predict a marriage?”
“Now there’s a cop out if ever there was one,” he exclaimed. “She’s won you over as well. You and Rolly had a great marriage. So do Mum and Dad.”
“Ah, then, your mother had a great deal of money. So did I. No one could ever have accused us of being fortune hunters. Makes things a lot easier.”
“Mum is four years younger than Dad,” he pointed out.
“My lovely Rolly was twelve years older than me.”
“The perfect gentleman.”
“He was indeed.”
“You all brought a great deal to one another,” he said. “What is Sonya going to bring to Marcus?”
Rowena chuckled. Over-long.
“Okay, okay, but is she in it for short term gain, Rowena? I’d love to look on the positive side, but I couldn’t bear to see Marcus humiliated. She doesn’t love him. That’s the pity. But she does have him wrapped around her little finger. He’s happy at the moment. Really happy. I have to say it’s lovely to see.”
Rowena abruptly sobered. “I’m as concerned as you are, David. For both of them. You know, dear, I’ve come to the conclusion Sonya is carrying a burden she can’t lay down. Despite that poise of hers, the high-born air, she seems to me a little lost.”
“Lost?” For a moment he thought he might lose it entirely. “She’s as switched on as they come.”
“Lighten up, love,” Rowena advised. “I know how much you love Marcus. You’ve always looked up to him. You have heart. You’re also very perceptive. I do realize the developing situation had to be taken very seriously. I’m with you there. Marcus, up until he met Sonya, has acted as though all happiness had passed him by.”
“It’s a dilemma, isn’t it?” he said. “Marcus is the one who stands to be hurt. Even if a marriage did take place, marriages end. A beautiful young woman with a large settlement could move on. Marcus would not. We both know that.”
“Yes indeed,” Rowena quietly agreed.
“We can expect fireworks from Dad and Mum. Dad especially. He loves his brother. Dad will want Sonya thoroughly checked out. Even then he wouldn’t approve. Neither would Mum. You know what they’re like. You know what the family is like. They’ll condemn her right off as a fortune hunter and a fake.”
“Well, she’s not faking the patrician air,” Rowena said in strong defence of the young woman she had come to like and admire.
“She’s a mystery woman indeed,” David answered, very, very dryly.
“There’s a story there, my darling. But not a happy one, I’m sure.”
“It makes a lot of women happy marrying a millionaire,” he pointed out.
“In a lot of cases it doesn’t work out marrying for love,” she countered. “I hear the Grantleys are divorcing. How long ago was it we were at the wedding?”
“Not long enough for them to open the wedding presents,” he said. “So, see you Sunday.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Problems. Problems. Problems, Rowena thought as she hung up.
Was it possible beautiful young Sonya was in some way flawed? Had she a plan in mind? Marcus could offer her the good life, but would she be content for long with that? And what did Sonya think of David? She felt deeply troubled now. David was a marvellous young man. She couldn’t count the number of women young and old who had succumbed to David’s extraordinary charm. David had everything going for him. Sonya would be a rare woman if she didn’t feel his attraction. So what did Sonya think of David? On Sunday she would make it her business to find out.
CHAPTER THREE
WHAT am I doing? Where am I going with my life? I was coping well enough. Now I feel utter confusion.
She often got caught up in conversations with herself. Sonya sat in front of her mirror while she put in her earrings. These days all she could seem to focus on was David Wainwright and the mounting tensions and difficulties springing up between them. She wanted to stop thinking about him, but his image was so compelling he broke again and again into her consciousness, no matter how hard she tried to keep up the barricades. She had the dismal feeling her past life with its tragedies had damaged her. Well, she was damaged, she admitted, but for ever? That was a frightening prognosis.
Maintain the distance. Maintain the emotional barriers. You need no more complications in life.
There was no getting away from the voice in her head. Everyone had one, but, her being so much alone in life since the tender age of sixteen, her inner voice only got stronger. David Wainwright’s mental image was so persistent, so vivid, for the first time in her life she understood how dangerous powerful sexual attraction could