Marrying William

by Trisha David

  'You can sleep on our living-room floor,' Florence Haynes told him, but William shook his head.

  He wouldn't put it past Ronald to come back.

  So he stayed where he was, watchful of the damaged house, and when a car cruised by without lights at about three in the morning William was standing in the moonlight, on sentry duty with his garden hose.

  It was too dark to make out the car number plates. The car slowed, the occupants saw William and they obviously decided against action. The car took off again into the night, and William knew that Jenni had been right.

  If he hadn't stayed on guard, the job would now be finished. One more bottle of petrol...

  William had known Ronald Harbertson was vicious, but the enormity of what the man was capable of was sinking in deeper by the minute. And he was supposed to be flying out of here tomorrow. Leaving Jenni to cope...

  No one would come back now, he thought. Not tonight. But tomorrow...

  Finally William tried to sleep, dozing fitfully under the trees at the front entrance, but half listening for cars. He woke at dawn still feeling exhausted.

  And then the day started.

  Rachel appeared, bleary-eyed but cheerful. She bounced across to his uncomfortable bed and prodded him with her toe.

  'Come on, sleepyhead. Let's see what the damage is before we start work.'

  'Work...' William rubbed his eyes and stretched like a big cat. 'There won't be any work done on this place today. I assume the insurance assessors will need to inspect it before we can...' Then he paused, another dreadful thought hitting home. 'That is, if the place is insured.'

  'Of course it's insured,' Rachel told him. 'Jenni's not a dope.'

  'Then...'

  'There are a few other things we need to do apart from repairing burned buildings.' Rachel folded her arms and regarded him with the contempt of the very young for the very old. 'Unless you intend to keep on sleeping.'

  'Tell me what they are and then I'll decide.' William was thinking longingly of his king-sized bed in his New York penthouse. Of his vast spa bath. Of a leisurely stroll for some excellent coffee...

  'Well, for a start, we have twenty-six pigs to catch,' Rachel told him. 'That'll take hours. And we need to figure out where to put them. There's the milking to do, and then it's change-over day. The Pattersons are leaving in about twenty minutes so we can start then...'

  'Start...'

  'Jenni usually does the cleaning, but...' Rachel gave him her very nicest child-humouring-adult smile. 'I know you wouldn't want your very own fiancée coming home from hospital to find things still undone. All the cottages have to be scrubbed out and the linen changed. Departure time is ten a.m. and arrival is two p.m. so we only have four hours to do it. We need to sort out the phone, too. See if it's working. Bookings come in all the time, and if the line's out we're in trouble. So...' she prodded him again '.. .how about getting up, lazybones? Will you help?'

  William groaned. 'I'm supposed to be going home to New York today. As fast as my legs will carry me.'

  'Not if you want Jenni to keep this farm, you're not,' Rachel told him, with the blithe unconcern of the young dropping their burdens on to their elders. 'Jenni needs you here. If you're going to be her husband, this is where you start. Right now.'

  And how was he supposed to respond to that? William winced as he rose to start his day, and he winced because Rachel was right.

  She was right in more ways than one, William thought grimly. Jenni didn't need a husband at the end of the month. She needed a husband right now.

  It was three in the afternoon before William appeared at the hospital to collect Jenni. She'd dressed, reusing the filthy clothes she'd worn the night before, and was limping back and forth across the ward while she waited. When William walked in, bearing a straggly bunch of scorched daisies, she practically fell on his chest in relief.

  What was it about this man? She'd known him for twenty-four hours and she was so pleased to see him she felt like weeping.

  It was reaction, she told herself fiercely. Reaction and worry.

  'William, where have you been?' she demanded, trying really hard not to throw her arms around his neck. 'I've been trying and trying to contact you. Do you know the phone's out, and I couldn't afford a taxi to take me all the way out to the farm? Where are Beth and Rachel? How's Sam? And why the heck are you bringing me burned daisies?'

  She paused for breath right before him, though she managed to avoid the neck-hugging, and William grinned. She really was very young. Every single emotion she was feeling was written right across her face. There was no city sophistication about this girl.

  He guessed anxiety was her foremost feeling, and it was growing by the minute as she waited for his answers. He took her shoulders and gently propelled her back on to the bed. 'Whoa. One question at a time, Jenni.'

  'Take me home.' The feel of his hands on her shoulders was doing strange things to her. Her voice came out a squeak.

  'Not until I've talked to your doctor.' And then, as she opened her mouth with yet more protests, he placed a hand on her lips and effectively silenced her.

  'Wait,' he told her. 'Here are your answers. No, the phone's not working, but repairmen are at the farm as we speak. Two, we knew you didn't have the money for a taxi, but we decided you needed to rest. We telephoned earlier. The sister in charge said you were asleep, so we left you here.'

  'But—'

  The hand clamped back down. 'Shut up, Jenni, dearest,' William said, and his smile deepened. 'Three, Rachel's in the Pattersons' Kookaburra Cottage catching up on study before this evening's party. I know the Brownlows were supposed to be arriving this morning, but we rang them and cancelled their booking.'

  'William—' Jenni was struggling for breath.

  'I haven't finished yet. I'm up to four and five. Sam is fine. He's limping a little but not as much as you. The vet delivered him home this morning. The vet heard about the fire. The whole town has heard of the fire and everyone wants to help. Beth and Sam are now staying with the Haynes family. They're busy planning the party.'

  'Beth!' Stunned, Jenni let herself be propelled back on to the softness of the bed and she sat down with a thump. 'William, what do you mean, she's in with the Hayneses? She's too shy! She'd never voluntarily go anywhere.'

  'Florence Haynes wouldn't take no for an answer, and, seeing as there's so much to do, Beth didn't mind at all. I left her blowing up balloons, with Sam supervising.'

  'But... Party? What party?' Jenni's mind was in overdrive. 'And if the Hayneses have Beth...I won't be able to charge them full rates. And what of the Brownlows? You can't cancel on the morning of their arrival. They'll sue.'

  'They're happy with their alternative accommodation.'

  There was a moment's pregnant silence while Jenni thought this through. 'What alternative accommodation?' she asked at last, in a voice of deep foreboding, and William smiled.

  'It's a place just north of Bateman's Bay that Rachel suggested. It's called Lagoona Resort. I'm paying the difference between the costs of the resort and what they would have paid for Kookaburra.'

  'But...' Jenni gasped. 'Lagoona Resort... It's fabulous. Five stars. All meals are provided and it costs a bomb.'

  'That's why the Brownlows are happy with the deal.'

  'I'll bet they are.' Jenni took two deep breaths and then another, but still she felt panic threatening to overwhelm her. 'William, I can't afford this. No way. It's crazy. Just because you have heaps of money, it doesn't mean we do. We have to eat, and...'

  'But, Jenni, I have one piece of really good news,' William said, in a voice that declared all Jenni's troubles were over. 'In view of the fire, Mrs Pilkington's willing to forget about Herbert and the beach coat. She gave me our money back.'

  'Gee, that's great.' Jenni was practically speechless with fury. 'Of all the arrogant, overbearing, too-rich-for-your-own-good stupid statements... One beach coat compared to two weeks' holiday rental!'

  'It is great
, isn't it?' William sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in his. He ignored her angry gasp and the way she pulled back on her hand—he knew she really didn't want him to let go—and he kept right on talking. 'Now, while you're still in a good mood—'

  'I'm not in a good mood,' she yelled. 'Let go of my hand.'

  'Hush,' said the ward sister from the door. She'd been listening in on every word and was thoroughly enjoying herself.

  She was ignored. Both parties were deep in battle.

  'While you're still in a good mood,' William repeated firmly, 'let me tell you what else we've organised.'

  '"We"? I don't want you to organise anything. Who's "we"?'

  'Me and Rachel and Beth and the Hayneses and the Pattersons and the vet and Mr Clarins and everyone else who could put an oar in this morning. So shut up and listen.'

  'William, I want to go home. Now! You have no right—'

  'When you've listened. First, we've loaned the cows to your next-door neighbour for a few days. He'll milk them with his herd and supply you with milk. Then you'll be delighted to learn we've made a great new run for the pigs. I know when your house burns down that housing pigs is hardly a priority, but while the guests were sympathetic it seemed a waste not to put them to work.'

  'You put the guests to work!'

  'Yep. The Pattersons and Pilkingtons even delayed their departure so they could help. I had two chaps from the fencing company come out and rebuild the sty, so we had somewhere to put them.'

  'But you know I can't afford fencing.' Jenni's voice was practically a wail.

  'William, are you crazy?'

  'But I can.' The dratted man seemed totally oblivious to her distress. 'No sweat. We've moved everything that's not smoke-stained into Kookaburra Cottage. That's where we'll base ourselves until we clean the house. Beth and Sam will stay with the Hayneses. Then you and Rachel can have one room in Kookaburra, and I'll have the other.'

  'I won't...'

  'You won't want to share with Rachel?' William appeared to brighten. He looked down at his scorched daisies with affection and his voice filled with gentle laughter. 'Rachel said you wouldn't. She says she talks in her sleep. Hey, was it worth picking these daisies, then? Mrs Haynes said I should bring you flowers but I wasn't sure. But now... Of course you can share with me rather than bunk in with Rachel. After all, Rachel would study much better if she had her own room!'

  Jenni gasped. She was all at sea here, and she wasn't enjoying herself one bit. William was teasing—surely he was!—but she wasn't feeling the least bit like laughter.

  'William, no,' she managed, and she had enough anger to make her voice work. Autocratic males! Who did he think he was? 'I'm not staying in Kookaburra. I need to rent it out. We need the money. I'll stay in the house. I don't mind a bit of smoke and water.'

  'You wouldn't want to know about the house,' William told her darkly. 'Not yet. It's a quagmire of wet soot. I'm good, but I'm not so good I can get houses rebuilt by dusk.'

  'But...' Jenni's voice faltered, and now there was real fear on her face. Her anger was supplanted by terror. 'Rebuilt? -What do you mean? William, the house didn't look so bad.'

  'It's not,' he told her quickly, laughter fading completely in the face of her fear. 'The front room is damaged, but that won't cost too much. I'll move builders in as soon as the insurance assessors move out. But there's smoke and water damage in the other rooms. I have to tell you, Jenni, that Beth and Rachel's belongings are pretty much okay, but yours...'

  'They're not burned!'

  'No, they're not burned, but...'

  'The pigs.' Jenni stared at him in horror. 'Of course. The pigs...'

  'The pigs didn't get into your wardrobe or drawers,' he told her, and his magnetic grin flashed out again. 'More's the pity. But the hole you made let the smoke into the ceiling cavity. The only manhole downward was in your room. The smoke's gone through everything.'

  'But...'

  'And then the water... Did you know you dropped the hose when you fell? It sprayed into your room and the combination of smoke and water... Plus pig smell.' He shook his head solemnly. 'Not a good mix, Jenni.'

  'But...' Jenni shook her head, trying to clear the fog. 'It doesn't matter. My clothes are old. If it's only smoke and pig smell...'

  'You know, that's what Rachel told me,' William said. 'And Rachel said what a pity they hadn't been burned. So you won't get too sad that Rach and I decided they needed replacing. And Beth concurred. So we've decided—'

  'We!'

  Jenni was practically speechless. To have someone else make decisions....

  It was Jenni who made the decisions. It was always Jenni who made the decisions. To have someone else dictate was taking hen breath away.

  'The parents of one of Beth's school friends run a fashion house at Bateman's Bay,' William told her, seemingly ignorant of her speechless astonishment. 'Beth phoned them—'

  'You haven't got a phone.' Jenni was fighting for facts here. Fighting for anything.

  'Beth called them on my mobile phone,' William explained patiently. 'And they're expecting us. We decided you can't face fire and disaster and insurance assessors in grimed and smoke-stained jeans. And especially you can't face the party we've planned.' His twinkling smile reached out and encompassed her. All of her, from braid to boots. 'Not that you don't look great!'

  Jenni flushed again, and kept right on flushing. Oh, heck! She didn't feel great. She felt grimy and bruised and battered and...and out of control. She felt perfectly dreadful and she was feeling worse by the minute. And...what party?

  'But...are you sure you should come home yet?' William asked, watching the emotions wash over her face. 'I'll ask the doctor. We can put things off by twenty-four hours if we must.'

  'The doctor says I can,' Jenni said desperately. 'He says—'

  'The doctor says she has the mother and father of a bruise on her upper leg but she's been lucky to escape a break.' It was the doctor himself, elderly and dapper and walking briskly into the ward. He smiled at both of them, and shook William's hand as he rose to greet him.

  'Well, well. William Brand.' The doctor beamed. 'I knew your father and I remember you when you were knee-high to a grasshopper. And Henry Clarins tells me you're marrying our Jenni this evening. Excellent. Couldn't be better. My wife and I will be there. With the general invitation you've issued, it's my guess the whole town will be present. I'm not the one to be standing in your way. I'm letting her go, but on the condition that she rests when she feels like it. Look after her, boy. You can organise that?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'What the...? No, he can't,' Jenni burst out, staring up at both men, appalled. 'Look, this is a mistake. We're not marrying this evening. We're not being married for a month. I can't—'

  'Yes, you can, Jenni.' William smiled. 'We need to do a bit of clothes-buying first, though, Doctor...'

  'Wouldn't hurt in the least. Buy her something pretty,' the doctor growled. 'She deserves it.' And then he paused. 'I take it the farm's safe enough from Harbertson while you organise things? The whole district knows what he's trying to do.'

  'I've employed security guards.'

  'You've what?' It was all Jenni could do not to yell. 'With whose money?'

  'With our money, sweetheart.' Ignoring the venom she was firing at him, William helped her off the bed and stood with his arm around her waist. 'You're forgetting our vows, my love. As of our wedding day—as of this day—what's yours is mine and what's mine is yours.'

  'We're not married yet,' she said through gritted teeth, but William grinned and swept her straight up to cradle her in his arms. He held her tightly against him, claiming her as his own.

  'Nope. You're not. More's the shame. Not for a whole four hours, you're not my bride, but I'm starting to think I can't wait. Do you know you look really, really cute when you're angry? Now, though... If you'll excuse us, Doctor, my future wife and I need to go shopping. And then we have a wedding to attend. Ours.'


  Crazy.

  This was just crazy.

  Jenni sat in the passenger seat of William's sports car and fumed while William signed discharge papers and said goodbye to the nurses and generally acted as if he were the husband of someone who was a little bit simple. And the nurses lapped him up. Two of them came out to say goodbye, and it was William their eyes rested on as the car left the hospital car park—not Jenni.

  'And now,' Jenni said as they turned on to the highway leading north to Bateman's Bay. 'Now, do you mind telling me what's going on? What on earth is going on?'

  'I'm defending my family and our farm from Ronald,' William said mildly. 'Isn't that what any red-blooded husband should do?'

  'Defending...' Jenni shook her head. 'William, stop.'

  'Stop?'

  'Stop this car and tell me what's going on,' she demanded. 'Before I open the car door and jump. I swear I will.'

  'You'll end up back in hospital.'

  'Then maybe it's a sane alternative to staying in the car with you. William, stop!'

  So William stopped. He pulled into a parking bay looking over the town and out to sea. There were yachts sailing on the bay. The sun was glinting on the water. Betangera looked serene and lovely.

  Serene... The total opposite to how Jenni was feeling.

  'Tell me...'

  'Tell you what?'

  'Well, for a start...' Jenni took a deep breath '... am I still in last night's bad dream, or did the doctor infer we were marrying today?'

  . 'You're not dreaming. It's the only way, Jenni,' William said apologetically. 'I've looked at it from every angle. We need to be married now.'

  'But... why?'

  'I spent a couple of hours with your lawyer, Henry Clarins, this morning,' William told her. 'He took legal advice from a couple of mates in Sydney. Once we're married, the only way Ronald can upset the legacy is by proving we're not living together as husband and wife. Disasters can't give him the farm.'

  'I don't understand…'

  'If you or I died now, before we're married, then Harbertson inherits,' William said grimly. 'I'm sure if you'd died last night then he'd have been delighted. But once we're married Ronald won't inherit, no matter what happens. The legal advice is that, if we were living as husband and wife at the time of our death, then Beth or Rachel would inherit, or we could bequeath it to a cats' home if we like. Legally we'd still be trying to fulfil the conditions of the will, so death wouldn't void the legacy. Ronald won't get it.'