Marrying William

by Trisha David

  'You're not spending money on us. And...' Jenni was floundering '...anyway, I thought you were leaving tonight.'

  'I was.' He glanced down at his watch. ' Was is the operative word. My plane takes off about forty minutes from now, from Sydney airport. Three hours' drive away.'

  'Oh, I'm sorry!' Jenni's hand flew to her mouth. 'I didn't think... I should have phoned. We shouldn't have waited in town for Rachel—'

  'Yes, you should,' Rachel broke in. She'd been standing watching, totally bemused. 'Most definitely you should, 'cos otherwise I wouldn't have met your affianced husband, Jenni, love.' The girl shoved her suitcases on to the ground and took a step forward to take William's hand in a strong, athletic grip. 'Mr Brand, I am very, very happy to meet you,' she said. 'You can't believe how happy. You seem to me to be exactly what Jenni needs.'

  'Yeah, well...'

  Both Jenni and William suddenly looked uncomfortable.

  'Rachel, this is only for twelve months.' Jenni said awkwardly. 'It's not like we're really getting married.'

  'But William has to live here. Right?'

  'Right. But as our guest, Rach.'

  'Oh, sure. Like the pigs.' Rachel grinned. 'Well, all I can say is that this promises to be an interesting twelve months. The man's been here for five hours and already he's paid off the goat's excesses and invited twenty-six pigs to stay. What next?'

  'Maybe we could all go in for supper next?' William said diffidently, and this time all the girls stared.

  'Supper?' Rachel asked, holding out little hope that she was hearing right. 'You mean... Something to eat?'

  'We had dinner in town,' Jenni said, and there was a touch of defiance in her tone. 'And Rachel always eats dinner on the train. So we're not...'

  'I mean supper,' William told her, and there was reproof in his voice.

  'I guess...'

  Oh, help, Jenni thought, floundering. She wasn't used to social settings. Guests and supper. He was expecting to be .fed. Of course he was expecting to be fed. She hadn't even organised him any dinner.

  This was dreadful. This man had been good to them, even if he had invited twenty-six pigs to stay. Jenni's voice lowered in dismay. 'Oh, help,' she muttered. 'I suppose you're hungry. I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I'm not much into entertaining, you see. I can cook you some eggs.'

  'And the bacon's in the back room,' William agreed blandly. 'Hiking around on a hundred and four legs. Jenni, a man could starve. How have you survived for this long without .me?'

  'On baked beans,' Beth said darkly. 'Jenni thinks she invented baked beans. That and eggs and bananas. I was raised on baked beans and eggs and bananas. I reckon I was twelve years old before she finally found out about our fourth culinary specialty.'

  'Which is?'

  'Spaghetti.'

  'Oh, beaut.' But William was smiling again as Jenni's look of consternation increased. 'No, Jenni, I'm not expecting you to cook for me. Especially I'm not expecting you to cook me baked beans. Heaven forbid. I've cooked myself an omelette, thank you very much, and I ate it an hour ago to celebrate the confinement of the pigs. I raided the garden. There's a nice lot of herbs growing out there.'

  'I planted the herbs,' Beth said. 'I like the smell.'

  'So do I, but I like the taste better. And for supper I've made us a cake.'

  'A cake!' They were all staring in stunned bemusement, as if he'd said the word 'cake' in ancient Greek.

  'There's a patch of rhubarb by the back porch that seems to have escaped Herbert's notice?,' William told them. 'So we now have a rhubarb and custard cake—oh, by the way, I milked the cows so I haven't used the last of your cream. The cake is waiting for us, right now.'

  'You milked the cows?' Jenni said faintly. That was her job. One of her million.

  'Yep. They were mooing, telling me very firmly their milkmaid was late. I approve of your choice in cows, by the way. They're very sociable ladies.'

  'But...' Jenni stopped, bewildered.

  William Brand didn't look like the sort of man who guessed cows needed milking and who then proceeded not only to milk them, but to make a cake with the produce. He looked the sort of man who sat in boardrooms, and told his minions what to do, and escorted beautiful women around town. Oh, and made money...

  But Rachel wasn't asking questions. All Jenni's sister was interested in was cake. 'Holy cow!' Rachel picked up a heap of baggage and headed up the verandah, three steps at a time.

  'What's keeping us outside, guys?' she called. 'Hurry up before the pigs stage a break-out and get it before we do. Hey, Jenni, this is great. You'd better hurry up and marry the man or I'll marry him myself. He milks cows and he bakes cakes! Well, well. What next?'

  William's cake was all very well, but it didn't make her one bit less confused, Jenni thought as they sat around the kitchen table and demolished the last of William's excellent creation. She was getting deeper and deeper into something she didn't understand at all.

  'So how come you can cook?' Rachel demanded as Jenni watched in silence. There were times in life when it was useful to have a noisy sister, Jenni decided. There were so many things Jenni wanted to know about William, and she felt as if she couldn't ask any of them, but Rachel knew no such qualms.

  'That's how I made my fortune,' William told her.

  'Like how?' There wasn't any easy way to avoid questions with Rachel. The first word Rachel had ever learned to say had been 'why?'. One of the reasons she'd wanted to be a doctor was that she was so curious, and she was curious about everything.

  'My mum died when I was tiny so I cooked for my dad and me,' William told them. 'When I quit university, cooking was the only thing I was good at. I qualified, went to the US, saved some money, set up my own restaurant—tiny at first—and then started accommodation packages. Gourmet weekends on Long Island. It's gone from there.'

  'So you can cook more than rhubarb cakes?' It was still Rachel.

  'I can cook most things,' William told them. 'But I don't. Unless in emergencies, like tonight. Like when faced with baked beans. Mostly I have master chefs do my cooking for me.'

  Oh, of course. Jenni took another bite of cake and wondered just what it would be like having master chefs doing her cooking for her. She couldn't. She felt as if she was in a daze.

  Her sisters were still talking.

  'I'd love to cook,' Beth said wistfully. 'It'd be so great. To cook a cake like this...'

  'Why don't you?'

  Beth glowered. 'Don't be silly. Blind people don't cook.'

  'Why not?'

  The question hung around them, and Jenni found herself holding her breath. Beth was so touchy. She was just as likely to get up now and storm into her bedroom because of William's insensitivity.

  'Because I can't see.' It was such a bitter response it was almost a slap.

  Jenni expected William to shut up then, but he did no such thing.

  'Yeah, but you can taste. And feel.' He frowned. 'You can't tell me there aren't scales with tactile measures instead of visual ones. You'd need a tactile thermostat on your oven but that should be easy to organise.'

  'That's not all.' Beth's bitterness was so deep you could taste it.

  'No.' William grew thoughtful, and Jenni could see a sharp intelligence focussing on her sister's problems. 'I guess not. There are things I do by sight, like seeing whether onions are brown or sauce is lumpy.'

  'Yeah, so...'

  But William wasn't to be stopped. 'But if you used your senses... You could use a cold spoon to taste-test a sauce— it'd cool fast enough for you to feel if it's lumpy. You could learn to time onions, and to smell whether they're right. And you can feel things like meringue for consistency.'

  'But I couldn't just do it,' Beth said bleakly. 'I'd need a teacher.'

  'I'll teach you.'

  And then all the girls were staring at him—and William was staring inwardly at himself as he heard what he'd just said.

  What had he done here? His plan was to do what he had to do a
nd then leave, with minimal emotional involvement He was leaving tomorrow for a month, and returning in time for the wedding. Nothing else.

  But Beth was looking at him with a face bright with eagerness, and Rachel was smiling her pleasure—and Jenni was looking at him with eyes that couldn't believe what she was hearing.

  Jenni had carried her sisters' burdens for ten long years, William; thought suddenly. There was only Jenni to help Beth, and Beth deserved to be helped.

  'Tomorrow,' Beth said urgently. 'Teach me tomorrow before we go and get Sam. Will you teach me to make a cake like this?'

  'William's leaving tomorrow,' Jenni told her.

  'I'll get up early.' Beth pushed herself to her feet. 'To learn to make a cake like this, I'll get up at five if I must Please, William...'

  'Not five.' William managed a smile but he was starting to feel almost as confused as Jenni. What was he letting himself in for? 'Nine. Your first cooking lesson is scheduled at nine tomorrow.'

  'Then I'll go to bed now.' Beth's face was alight with eagerness. 'And straight to sleep. If you really will help me...'

  Rachel pushed herself to her feet as well, regretfully, Jenni thought.

  'And I'm home on swat vac,' she said. 'Which means I have exams in a week, so I'm off to hit the books. Jenni, I'll leave you with your soon-to-be-husband.' She bent and kissed her sister on the top of her head.

  'And I approve very much,' she whispered. 'Go to it, Jenni.'

  And William and Jenni were left alone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Oh, help...

  What did one say, late at night over the kitchen table, to one's affianced husband—when one had only just met one's affianced husband that afternoon?

  'Thank...thank you for being nice to Beth,' Jenni managed, but William waved his hand as a disclaimer.

  'I'll enjoy teaching her to cook a cake. It'll be a challenge.'

  Jenni couldn't think of a single thing more to say.

  Finally she pushed herself to her feet. She had to do something here, or she'd go nuts, and she couldn't go to bed. There were pigs in her room!

  'I'll walk down and check out the pigsty,' she said. 'If I can get them out of the house and back where they belong...'

  'You won't get the gate to work.'

  'I've closed that gate every night for the last ten years,' she told him.

  'You won't tonight.'

  'Want to bet?' she demanded. 'Just because you're a weakling...'

  William grinned and rose, his long body towering over her. He filled her tiny kitchen as no one else had ever done.

  'Weakling, hey? Okay, Jenni Hartley. Let's go down and see you close this gate.'

  Weakling indeed! She couldn't. No one could.

  The child who'd swung open the gate had swung it so wide it had snapped off its rotten hinges. It had always been easy enough to open, falling downhill, but that had been its undoing. With the child pulling it open and then releasing it to swing free, it had fallen so fast the hinge had snapped clean away, the timber railings crumbling as they fell.

  So what would she do now? Jenni thought bleakly.

  Buy timber to fix it? The railings would be expensive and she needed a new fence post. Jenni did a fast calculation of her bank balance. This and the vet's fees tonight...

  Maybe she'd have to use Rachel's wall again. When was Rachel going back to university? And meanwhile...

  'Oh, great,' Jenni murmured, acutely aware of William by her side. 'That leaves me...'

  'Sharing a bedroom with twenty-six pigs.' William leaned on the fence and grinned at her in the moonlight. 'I wouldn't. I'll just bet they'll snore.' His grin deepened. 'You can share my master bedroom if you like. Master bedrooms are meant to be shared. With mistresses. Or wives.'

  'Oh, yeah...' Jenni was so self-conscious that she was finding it hard to breathe. 'In your dreams, William Brand.'

  'Well, I am your intended...'

  'On paper.' She glowered. 'Get one thing straight right now, William. I am not in the market for a husband apart from a name on a legal piece of paper. You try claiming anything else as a right and I'll tell Ronald he can take the farm. Slime ball or not, it's his.'

  William's smile faded. They stood silently by the sty, the tension increasing by the minute.

  Of course she was right. He should agree, William thought. That was what he wanted—wasn't it? He should agree that a legal document was all that was required, and then he should take himself back to the house. Put himself to bed and leave in the morning.

  But he couldn't. Her harsh affirmation that she didn't want him nettled something deep inside.

  This was crazy, William thought. He was at home wife women. He didn't have a problem with dating, talking... even sleeping with women. His sex life was entirely satisfactory for his needs, thank you very much. He wanted no involvement, now or in the future. He'd worked that out as a Brand survival technique.

  So why was he so tense?

  He stared down at Jenni in the moonlight. She looked almost a kid, with her jeans and his oversized shirt and her worn boots, and that absurd braid with wisps escaping.

  Suddenly he had an almost overpowering urge to reach out and loosen it completely. To see what her hair looked like, hanging free...

  He held back with an effort.

  'Why are you so touchy, Jenni?' he asked mildly. 'Can it be you've never had a boyfriend? I find that hard to believe.'

  'I don't know why you should.' She glowered. 'I don't have time for boyfriends. Rachel has boyfriends. I don't.'

  'Yeah, I'd imagine Rachel having boyfriends.' William grinned. 'Herds of 'em. But you...'

  'I told you... Look, William, this subject is out of bounds.'

  'Husbands and wives should know all about each other.'

  'As long as you're not a bigamist or a serial killer, then I don't need to know any more.'

  'But...' The temptation to push this further was almost irresistible. 'You don't want to know me in any other way?'

  'No!' It was close to a cry of panic.

  'Why not?'

  'Look, I just don't...' Jenni backed away, holding up two hands as if to fend off a lunge, and William's brow snapped down in concern.

  'Hey, Jenni, let's not go over the top here. I'm not threatening rape of my very own wife.'

  'Look, maybe this isn't such a good idea...'

  William's frown was still there. 'This isn't making sense, Jenni. You're acting like you're twelve years old and I'm the first male who ever asked if he could kiss you.'

  'I'm... I'm...'

  And William's eyes widened, and he swore softly into the night. 'You're kidding! You really haven't been kissed?'

  'Look, just because everyone's not promiscuous…'

  'I'm not promiscuous.'

  'Oh, yeah? That's not what the society tabloids say about you.'

  'They don't say I'm promiscuous, Jenni.' William shook his head in the dark. 'Dating women isn't necessarily sleeping with them. But this... This is a nonsense. Jenni, somehow we have to convince the world that we have a viable marriage. If the world—or at least the legal fraternity— doesn't believe we have a marriage, for twelve months at least, then Ronald gets his farm. So you'll have to learn not to flinch every time I come near you.'

  'I don't flinch.'

  'You flinch.'

  'Just because you expect every woman to leap right into your arms...'

  'I don't, actually,' he said. 'But neither do I expect them to turn frigid and run a mile.'

  'Are you saying I'm frigid?'

  'Twenty-six and never been kissed... Yes. I definitely call that frigid.'

  'Well, I'm not!' Jenni took a deep breath. 'It's just I can't... I can't afford to be distracted. I can't afford the time. I never have...'

  'I can see that,' William told her, his voice gentling. 'You've put your whole life into making this farm pay, and you've raised two great sisters. But, Jenni, Beth and Rachel aren't going to be dependent on you all their lives. A
nd when they're gone...'

  'Beth will always need me.'

  'She may not,' he said softly. 'Beth has brains and spirit and she's aching to be independent. You can't tie her to your apron strings. And then what?'

  Jenni's chin tilted and a dangerous sparkle lit behind her eyes.

  'Then there's always the pigs.'

  'Oh, that's right. You have twenty-six pigs to share your bedroom with. Kinky! You'll turn into a particularly smelly spinster with strange eating habits. And your braid will curl. What a waste!'

  'William, this is none of your business.'

  'You're my future wife. It's very much my business if my future wife chooses pigs before me. Consider my pride! And surely you're not going to stay here for ever?'

  'I don't see why not. I like it here.'

  'You've never seen anything else.'

  'I like it that way!'

  'Well, what about your love life?' he said, ignoring her protest. 'Surely you don't intend to stay single for ever?'

  'Why not? I don't need a man.' She grimaced. 'I've seen what marriage does to people and I don't like it. I don't need it.'

  'You don't know what you need,' he said sternly. 'My parents had a great marriage until my mother's death. And sex is great. How can you know if you've never tried? Jenni, come here.'

  'No way.'

  'Jenni...' William's dark eyes glinted at her and he smiled, and the man just had to smile and Jenni's knees turned to jelly. 'Jenni, this afternoon, I asked you to marry me and you agreed. Now I find that the woman I intend to marry has never been kissed. I refuse to let such a state of affairs continue. It's almost immoral.'

  'Immoral!' Jenni somehow found the strength to say the word. Her knees were wobbling and her foundations were shaken to the core. 'Immoral! I know who's immoral.'

  'I'm not immoral. Jenni, come here and let me kiss you.'

  'I don't want to.'

  'Liar.'

  'I am not—'

  Jenni, shut up. Just shut up, put down your bristles and let yourself be kissed.'

  And William took two steps towards her in the moonlight, took her in his arms—and he kissed her.

  Twenty-six and never been kissed...