by Judy Angelo
When the dessert arrived he teased her about how funny she was, getting excited because they had crème brulee on the menu. When she gave him a shy smile and then looked away it reminded him of how young she was. “You’re twenty, right?” He asked and when she nodded he continued. “So when are you going to be twenty-one? I bet you’re looking forward to that. You’ll be a real adult, then. No fake ID to get a drink whenever you visit Georgia.”
He was surprised when her answer was a slight grimace. Somehow the idea of turning twenty-one didn’t seem to excite her. In fact, he would almost describe the emotion that flashed across her face as fear.
“I’ll be twenty-one in a month and a half,” she said, the laughter gone from her eyes.
He frowned. “You don’t seem happy about it.”
She bit her lip then sighed. “I’m not,” she said finally. “Before I reach twenty-one I’ll have to marry a man I hardly even know.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Come again?” Reed stared at her, shock ripping through him like lightning. “What did you say?”
“I have to get married,” she said, her face the picture of despair, “before I hit twenty-one. It’s in my father’s will.”
“What the hell are you talking about? That doesn’t make any sense.” He reached up to rake his fingers through his hair. “Not in this day and age.”
“Not to you, it doesn’t. But to my father...” Her mouth twisted sadly and then she gave a sigh. “Before he died my father told me that he’d arranged for me to marry a kind, responsible man, a good friend who he said would manage the money he’d left and take good care of me.”
“An arranged marriage?” Reed could not believe what he was hearing.
Golden nodded, a pained expression on her face. “My father was very old fashion. You’d think this was the Victorian age, the way he carried on. I loved my father but he was a bit...eccentric.” She paused, her gaze unfocused like she was remembering her father. Then she blinked. “Father didn’t think women could manage money.” She smiled wryly. “His experience with mother was not very reassuring.” She drew in her breath then let it out on a sigh. “Anyway, the long and short of it is that I’m to marry Lord Mountbatten before I hit my twenty-first birthday. If not, the money in my trust fund goes to my mother and there’s no way I can let that happen.”
“Because?”
Her eyebrows flew up and she looked at him like he’d asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because then it would all go to Manchester. I can’t allow that. He controls every cent my mother has now. Can you imagine what he would do with another nine million pounds?”
“Nine mil...” Reed stared at Golden. The girl had nine million pounds at her disposal but you’d never tell, not the way she carried herself so humble and reserved. His mind homed in on her dilemma and he frowned. “So you’re going to marry this man so you can inherit the money.”
She drew in her breath and when she let it out her shoulders sagged. “Yes.”
“You’re going to sacrifice yourself to this man,” he said, watching her face intently, “for the money.”
“Yes,” she said sadly, “but not for the money. For my mother.”
“For your mother?”
“Yes. Don’t you see? The only way I can save my mother from that beast is if I keep the money out of his hands. That way, once I convince her to leave him I can provide for her, give her the comfort she’s used to.” She grimaced. “Assuming I’ll be able to convince her of that. She’s so in awe of him.”
“But for you to have to marry this man just so you can get your money?” He snorted in disgust. “What kind of a father traps his daughter in a situation like that?” He was about to say more but the stricken look on Golden’s face made him can it. Obviously, she loved her father regardless of his idiotic stipulations. It was not his place to criticize. Still, there had to be some way to get around this.
“Can you get me a copy of the will?” he asked. “I’d like my lawyer to have a look, if you don’t mind. There must be some loophole that would allow you to get your money without having to marry this man.”
“I...don’t have a copy,” she said. “I never saw the will. All I know is what my father told me.” Absentmindedly she twisted the napkin in her hands. “I could ask my mother. She has it locked away in the safety deposit box. Although...she’d want to know why I want a copy of it.”
“Tell her you want to review it before your twenty-first birthday to make sure you’re clear on all the conditions. I’m sure she’ll buy that.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice still doubtful. “I’ll try.” And then she gave him a tremulous smile.
The meal over, Reed drove Golden back to the office then walked her to her car. She surprised him when she laid a hand on his arm.
“Thank you,” she said, “for offering to help. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re very welcome.” He looked down at her as she leaned against her car but where he was expecting relief, on her face was a sadness he could not understand. Was she still worried about her fate? “Why so sad?” he asked gently. “I’m sure my lawyer will figure things out.”
“I know,” she said as she slid her hands from his arm and rested it on the window. “It’s not that. I was thinking about Claire, my friend.” She gave a soft sigh. “I feel so bad. I was the one who made her sick.”
“How so?”
“She had a stroke but it was because she was upset. It was my fault, meddling in her business. I was trying to reconcile her with the daughter she hadn’t seen in six years.” She shook her head. “It ended up upsetting her so much that she had the stroke.”
“That’s what she told you?”
“No. In fact, the doctors said it had nothing to do with that but I don’t believe them.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “It was my fault.”
She looked so forlorn that Reed wanted to take her into his arms and comfort her. He wanted her to know that everything would be all right.
At that moment he knew he was probably being the biggest fool on earth but that was a risk he was prepared to take as long as he could steal one more kiss. Ignoring the alarm bells going off in his head Reed leaned forward and rested his hands on the top of the car door on either side of Golden’s head, effectively trapping her in place.
She lifted her face to him. She knew exactly what he was about to do and she was not going to stop him. He could see it in the longing in her eyes, the soft parting of her lips. She wanted the comfort of his lips on hers and he would not deny her.
Sliding his hands from the car he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close then he dropped his head to capture her willing mouth. This time he did not tempt and tease. He wanted her, needed her so bad that this time he would not hold back.
He pressed his lips against hers and as she melted against him, her hands sliding around to circle his waist, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into her moist depth.
As their tongues touched she moaned and her arms around him tightened. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his, seeming desperate to lose herself in his embrace, to forget all her troubles in the passion of his kiss.
He did his best not to disappoint. Tilting forward he pressed her back against the car, never breaking the kiss, one hand sliding up to cradle her head while the other gently stroked her hip.
When he finally pulled his lips from hers she hid her face against his shoulder, her breath escaping in shallow pants as her body trembled against his.
She was a passionate one, this girl, so endearing in her eager innocence.
Reed almost groaned as he held her close. More than anything, he wanted to make sure never to hurt her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’m sorry, Claire. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“For what? What nonsense are you blabbing about now, child?” Claire popped a grape into her mouth and when she bit down a tiny spray shot from between her li
ps. She laughed and dabbed at her mouth with a tissue. “These dentures. Make sure you take good care of your teeth. These things will embarrass you every time.”
“Claire, I’m serious.” Golden was almost pouting. Claire could be so difficult when she wanted to be. Her friend knew exactly what she was talking about but, for some reason, she’d decided to play dumb. As she sat across from Claire in the ground-floor canteen she pushed her salad plate away and folded her arms. “You know exactly what I mean. I won’t be a busybody anymore. I promise.” Then her face fell. “I didn’t mean for you to get sick. Honest.”
“Golden,” Claire said, her face suddenly serious, “I’m going to say this one more time and this time I want you to listen. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in years. And what you did last week, getting Marjorie to come visit, could not have happened at a better time.”
If Claire had slapped her on the cheek Golden could not have been more surprised. “You’re not angry about that?”
“No, I’m not. On the contrary, I’m proud of you. You knew I was being an old fool and you took steps to correct that.”
“But...but you got upset. You threw the brownies at Marjorie. You got a stroke.”
“I know, I know.” Claire waved her hands dismissively. “So I’m an old tyrant. That’s how I’ve always been. And I have a hot temper. That’s just me. You should know that by now.”
“But how do you go from being upset to this? You’re so...mellow.” Golden shook her head in confusion. “I thought you’d hate me for causing your stroke.”
“Now you stop that. You did not cause that stroke. I brought it on myself, eating those brownies all at once. My body can’t take all that sugar.”
“What brownies? Not the ones Marjorie brought? You threw them at her. They fell on the floor.”
“Only a couple of them fell out. I ate all the rest and boy, were they good.” Her eyes sparkled and she licked her lips like she was devouring the brownies all over again. “I think it was the sugar shock that did me in. Ten brownies at one go was too much for this old body to handle.” She shook her head. “I was never strong in the self-control department.”
Leaning forward, Claire put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “Do you know what, though? That stroke served a good purpose. It was like a smack to the forehead. A wake-up call, as they say.”
Golden leaned forward, too. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying if I hadn’t looked death in the eyes I wouldn’t have faced up to the fact that I’ll be gone soon and when you’re dead, you’re dead. No more chances to make things right.” She lifted her head then leaned back in her chair but although her body looked relaxed her eyes were intense. “All these years I’ve been the worst fool, carrying my ex-husband in my heart, hating him, punishing Marjorie for loving him. I was hurt by both of them. Her father, I still don’t like, but Marjorie...I’ve been holding a grudge against my own daughter.”
Claire’s eyes grew misty as she spoke. “I was in shock when I saw her last week and I guess that’s why I reacted the way I did. I’d been holding on to my anger so long it exploded as soon as the fuse was lit. But it was the stroke that made me realize I’m nothing but an ass. I could be dead now and I wouldn’t have told Marjorie how I really feel about her.”
“And...how is that?”
“I love her, Golden. You know that. That’s why you got her to come here to see me. Except that I made shambles of that experiment,” she gave Golden a rueful smile, “because of my pride.” She reached out to take Golden’s hands. “Can you help me? Get her to come back and see me.”
Golden clasped the withered hands. “Are you sure?” She stared at her friend and as she did, a worrying thought entered her mind. Was Claire showing signs of senility? How could she move from explosive rage, throwing things at her daughter, chasing her away, and not a week later ask to see her again? “Do you know what you’re saying, Claire?” she pressed.
Claire tightened her lips then pushed them out in a pout. She pulled her hand from Golden’s grasp. “Don’t patronize me, child. I know exactly what I’m saying. Now go and convince Marjorie to come back. Tell her I’m ready to see her.”
“I’ll try.” Golden gave her a slow nod, knowing she would do that and more but wondering if, now that Claire was ready, Marjorie would be willing to forgive.
***
The day after Golden had given Reed a copy of the will he called her into his office. Slowly, she got up from her desk, steeling herself for bad news.
It had been a task, getting her mother to make her a copy. It had taken three days of pleading before Eugenia got the original from the safety deposit box and had a copy made. Immediately, Golden handed it over to Reed and he must have shown it to his lawyer right away because here he was, a little over twenty-four hours later, calling her to discuss the document in question.
As soon as she pushed the door and stepped into his office he waved her toward the chair across from him. Quickly, she slid onto the seat and looked at him, her heart pounding in anticipation of his next words. Had the lawyer found a way to rescue her from impending imprisonment, marriage to a man who was more than twice her age? She couldn’t read a thing in Reed’s expression.
“Did you even look at the will?” he asked once she’d settled into the chair.
“N...no. I...I was so relieved to get it from Mother I just stuck it in my bag and next morning I took it straight to you.” She frowned. “Is something wrong? Is it...worse than I thought?” Then her eyes widened as a thought struck her. “Did the date pass? Was I supposed to do this when I was eighteen?”
Reed shook his head. “No, nothing like that. But there is one surprising thing about this will.” As he rested back in his chair, his elbows on the arms, he tented his fingers. “You said the will requires you to marry your father’s friend, a man selected by him. Lord Mountbatten.”
“Yes,” Golden said, her eyes searching Reed’s face but not finding any clue to where this was going. “And he already called my mother twice this month. He wants me to go and see him.” She looked down at her hands. “Thank God she didn’t breathe a word to Manchester.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
At his words, Golden jerked her head up. “Wrong? Manchester knows he’s been calling?”
“No, I’m not talking about that. You’re wrong that you’re required to marry Lord Mountbatten before you turn twenty-one.”
“But...” she stared at him, confused. “But that was what my father told me. If I want to inherit the money I have to get married before I turn twenty-one.”
“Yes, but not to Lord Mountbatten.”
Golden’s heart lurched. Was a miracle about to take place? Could she inherit the money without sacrificing herself? But then his words came back to her again – yes, but not to Lord Mountbatten. So she would still have to marry. “Then to whom?” She held her breath, praying it wasn’t someone even worse.
“To anyone you choose. Or, at least, anyone you can find who’ll agree to marry you on such short notice.” He gave her a tight smile. “One month is not a long time.”
“So I don’t have to marry Lord Mountbatten?” Golden slid forward in the chair. Was she dreaming? “I can marry anyone I want?”
Reed nodded. “You can.” Then he let the document he was holding fall on top of the desk. “Sorry we couldn’t get you totally out of this. Your father wrote a tight will but at least he didn’t record Mountbatten’s name. He probably wanted to steer you in the direction of an older, more responsible man and that was why he told you to choose his old friend. You can thank your luck stars he didn’t put that part in writing.”
A slow smile crept onto Golden’s lips and then her face broke into a wide grin. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She had to fight to keep her bottom on the seat. All she wanted to do right then was jump up and fling her arms around him. It was like he’d saved her from a fate worse than death.
And he�
��d opened a whole new world of possibilities. She could marry any man she wanted, any one who would agree to take that step with her. And she already had one in mind.
The only man who had ever made her heart leap inside her chest was sitting right across from her. The only man she would consider marrying was Reed Davidoff.
The only question was, would he want to marry her?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Paris, here I come.” Golden laughed out loud as she threw the rest of her clothes into the suitcase and snapped it shut.
Reed had asked her to accompany him to Paris during Fashion Week where he would launch a new line designed by his recently appointed fashion director. And, an unexpected bonus for her, he’d given her all of six brand new haute couture gowns that she could wear to the shows in Paris. She’d never been blessed with such generosity in her life and that made her love him all the more.
She had to admit, though, that things had been strange between them for the past week, ever since she got the news of the loophole in her father’s will.
Probably because she now saw Reed as a possible marriage partner, she’d felt herself growing closer and closer to him. He, on the other hand, seemed to be pulling away. Not literally, of course, but there were days when he shut himself away in his office, not even coming out to exchange a few pleasantries as he would normally do. Still, she didn’t let it worry her too much. He probably had a lot on his mind.
And anyway, she’d come up with a sensible plan. It was still a few weeks before her twenty-first birthday so there was still time. Not much, but enough for her to wait for the perfect moment when she could share her thoughts with him.
Until then she would enjoy each moment and right now the highlight of her life was this trip to Paris, her first venture outside of England since she’d arrived six years earlier. She’d been so sheltered but now that she was a working woman who could stop her from spreading her wings? Certainly not Dunstan Manchester.