Wife: Bought and Paid For

by Jacqueline Baird

  ‘I’ll see you out.’ Jane jumped up, and, once in the hall of the vicarage, Jane put an arm around Penny’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about university or me. Talk to Solo—I’m sure it will be fine. You know Patricia, she always was a terrible gossip. You don’t have to believe everything she tells you.’

  The sun was shining, it was a beautiful warm September afternoon, but to Penny the world had turned grey as she set off walking through the village, a deep frown marring her lovely features. She needed to think, and, turning, she trekked across the fields towards home.

  Solo with another woman. She examined the thought and she didn’t like it. He had finished with the woman within a week of meeting Penny, which she could just about get over. But what Patricia had said about Tina Jenson she could not dismiss quite so easily. Penny had only met the woman once, and she had taken Tina’s position as Solo’s PA at face value.

  Solo had hinted to Penny he wanted to marry her, and she would stake her life on him being sincere. She loved him with all her heart. Was she really going to let Patricia’s vague rumours and gossip spoil the love and trust she had in Solo?

  No, she finally decided with the optimism of youth. Tomorrow Solo would be here and everything would be fine, and, holding that thought, she hurried on home.

  Penny saw the black car as soon as she walked around the corner of the house. It was Solo’s—he had come back early, and her confidence in his love rose sky high. She heard voices as she passed the open window of the drawing room, and paused. But it was the ‘Solo, darling really!’ that stopped her in her tracks.

  She leant against the warm stone wall beneath the window, unable to move, and for once grateful for her lack of height. She had only heard the voice once before but it was unmistakably Tina Jenson.

  ‘I have seen the amount of money you have paid for the land, and it’s not worth it on its own. What are you up to?’

  ‘It s a good long-term investment, and I’m thinking of going into a partnership,’ Solo responded smoothly.

  ‘I don’t believe you. You always work alone.’ Tina paused, then added, ‘But then it’s not like you to buy a lump of land. With the house and park, yes, I could understand. The building is historic, and with work could be turned into a luxury hotel. But even so the place is shabby, and it would cost a fortune to renovate. No, I have known you too long…You are up to something, Solo.’ She ended with a chuckle.

  Penny’s spine stiffened, her pride in her home coming to the fore, and she waited for Solo to deny Tina’s words.

  ‘You obviously don’t know me that well,’ Solo opined, ‘or you would know I have every intention of refurbishing this place and going into a partnership, but not necessarily with Julian Haversham. You seem to have overlooked the delightful Penelope, and it is about time I settled down.’

  ‘What? Seduce the daughter? That child.’ Tina laughed out loud. ‘So she will go along with your plan for the house!’

  Numb with shock and totally humiliated, Penny sank to her knees on the hard ground. She wanted to put her hands over her ears but a masochistic desire to know the worst made her hold back her cry of despair, and she made herself listen.

  ‘Come off it, Solo, you can be ruthless in business, but you’re not the type to seduce a young girl. Penny Haversham is lovely, but she is the kind a man has to marry, and I can’t see you doing that. Solo by name, Solo by nature. You like your women to know the score. Sex without commitment. I should know. I have sent the flowers and picked out the jewellery often enough.’

  ‘True, but only because you are much more sensitive to a woman’s needs in that area,’ Solo drawled with mocking amusement. ‘But maybe I’ve reached an age when I want something different. A loving wife and a son or two holds strong appeal.’

  ‘Oh, sure, a malleable little wife while you do what you like. I can see the appeal, but I hate to tell you, Solo, young girls have a nasty habit of growing up, and Penelope Haversham is no fool; unworldly, yes, but to get a place at Cambridge University she has to have a brain,’ she said cynically. ‘And have you thought of how you would explain our relationship to a wife? She would need to be enormously broad-minded,’ she ended with a laugh.

  ‘Nothing would change between you and I,’ Solo said with a responsive chuckle. ‘You don’t need to worry on that score. I’ll always love you…’

  Patricia had been right, and, sick to her soul, Penny did not stop to hear more, but scuttled back around the corner of the house. Her eyes swimming in tears, blindly she ran and ran back over the fields and finally collapsed in her secret place, beneath a huge willow by the river.

  Fighting to breathe, her body racked with gigantic shudders. She cried until there were no tears left. Her throat was sore and aching, but was nothing like the ache in her heart. Still the words of Solo and Tina, their shared laughter, echoed in her head like some horrific nightmare that would not go away. Her dreams of love and marriage completely shattered—it had just been an illusion created by the deceit of one man.

  Solo had considered marrying her; in that she had been right. But he did not want her, did not love her, never had. It had all been a sophisticated game, a plan to acquire her acceptance for the changes in store at Haversham Park, and as the knowledge sank into her tortured mind she heard her heart break.

  Penny slipped from her hiding place and stared at the softly flowing water, and wanted to die; she could not bear the pain. Lifting her head, she looked up at the clear blue sky, the only sound an occasional bird song and the gentle flow of the water over the stones. But as she stood there with the water swirling around her the familiar beauty of the place touched her soul, and she realised life was too precious to let a womanising devil of a man like Solo Maffeiano destroy her.

  Slowly Penny walked back across the fields towards the vicarage. She couldn’t go home yet… She could not face Solo.

  She needed to build up her courage to dump the swine, and face her father. She could not bear the thought of him actually going into business with Maffeiano, and selling the house even though he had every right to do so, and if her rejection of Solo spoilt her dad’s plans, tough… But she could see Veronica’s hand behind this.

  Penny consoled herself with the thought that at least her father had got the money for the land. He and Veronica would have to be happy with that. She was almost at the front door of the vicarage when it flew open and Simon appeared.

  ‘What the hell happened to you?’ he demanded. ‘You look as though you have been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

  Penny looked up into his friendly face and she could not help it, she threw herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Simon, Patricia was right about the man I thought loved me—he doesn’t at all. I am in a hell of a mess, and I dare not face Solo Maffeiano.’

  ‘Hey, don’t be upset. Your honorary brother is here to help.’ His strong arms closed firmly around her, and he tilted her chin up to his. ‘Jane told me you were involved with a man.’

  ‘Not any more—I never want to see him again,’ Penny said bitterly.

  ‘This Solo wouldn’t be a tall, dark, good-looking dude…?

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘He’s walking up the drive, probably looking for you. Follow my lead and your troubles will be over. He looks the jealous type. Kiss me and make it look good. Then tell him you were waiting for me, your boyfriend.’ Simon pressed his lips to hers and Penny wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him…

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘I REALLY don’t feel like socialising, Jane.’ Penny made one last effort to get out of accompanying Jane to her firm’s dinner-dance as they got out of the taxi outside an exclusive London hotel.

  ‘Yes, you do.’ Jane grabbed Penny’s arm and almost frogmarched her into the impressive entrance foyer. ‘After the shock you have had today you need company. Relax, forget your worries and act your age for once, instead of like an old spinster.’

  ‘But I feel half naked in this dress.’ Jane had insisted on lendi
ng her the dress, when Penny had tried to use the excuse of having nothing with her to wear. ‘I never wear red,’ Penny wailed as they handed their wraps in to the cloakroom attendant.

  ‘You look great. Stop moaning and enjoy yourself.’

  Solo Maffeiano walked out of the lounge bar and stilled, tension in every long line of his superb body. He looked and looked again at the lady in red. His grey eyes flared in shock: it was Penelope Haversham in person. But not a side of Miss Haversham he had ever seen before…which was hardly surprising as she had played the young innocent for him. It still rankled that she had managed to fool him.

  But there was no mistaking the delicate profile. Her pale hair was swept up into an intricate twist on the top of her head. Her translucent skin. Though tonight there was a lot of bare skin, he thought with a cynical twist of his hard mouth. The slight coltishness of youth had gone and she had grown into a strikingly sensual woman. The shimmering red dress clung to her every curve; it was cut low at the front and even lower at the back. With her high, full breasts, a tiny waist and firmly rounded bottom, she had the perfect hourglass figure. Add shapely legs and the fact that she moved like a dream oozing sex appeal, and she became every red-blooded male’s fantasy female. Nothing like the demure bridesmaid in the photograph Solo had first noted.

  But what was she doing in his hotel? Had she come looking for him? Perhaps she thought she could seduce him into doing what she wanted more easily in the intimate surroundings of his suite, rather than waiting until their official appointment tomorrow. The thought was seductive, and she was certainly dressed for the part.

  Then he spotted her friend Jane and the direction they were heading. He realised it was pure coincidence after all as the two women were swept up in a crowd entering the ballroom, and he felt the sudden jolt of desire again.

  Damn it to hell! She still had the same effect on him. Even though he knew her for the two-timing, scheming little bitch she was. Red was a very appropriate colour for her type. His grey eyes narrowed menacingly, the anger was buried deep, but it was still there…

  For a moment he was tempted to follow Penny and make his presence felt, but cynically decided not to. It would be interesting to see which Penny would appear in his office tomorrow—the-butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth Penny, or the sexy lady-in-red Penny.

  Four years later he still smarted from the blow to his pride Penelope Haversham had inflicted. Since the age of twelve, no woman had ever turned Solo Maffeiano down, and no woman had deceived him so thoroughly then dumped him. No other woman had even tried, only Penelope, and she had succeeded.

  His memory of their brief, disastrous affair four years earlier still had the power to make his blood boil. It had not even been an affair, because being an idiot he had never taken her to bed. For the first time in his life he had decided to commit to one woman for life and got stamped on for his pains. This time would be different, he vowed with a chilling smile that never reached steel-grey eyes. He spun on his heel and re-entered the bar. He had not expected to see her here tonight, and he needed a drink.

  Enjoy herself? If only she could, Penny thought, a prickling sensation bringing her out in goose-bumps. Convinced someone was watching her, she glanced swiftly around and felt a fool. Her nerves must be getting the better of her—it was only a dinner-dance. Get a grip, she told herself as they walked into the ballroom.

  As for fun, there had been very little in Penny’s life recently. Her father and Veronica had been involved in a rail crash nine months ago. Veronica had died instantly, and her father two days later without ever regaining consciousness, and it had changed Penny’s life.

  She had graduated from university last year with Jane. Jane had got a job in the legal department of a finance company, and rented a tiny two-bedroom terraced house in London. Penny had planned on joining her, having secured a job in the British Library, but the accident that had killed Julian and Veronica had also killed her plan to live in London.

  Instead Penny had stayed at home to look after her brother James, and grieved, while still having to deal with all the details of two deaths and the ongoing accident investigation.

  Today Penny had come up to London on business and to stay with Jane for two days. Jane’s family was looking after James.

  In a buoyant mood, Penny had actually thought she was beginning to get over the worst of her grief and feel hope for the future. It had been a perfect May morning when she had set off for her meeting with her publishing house, and to her delight she had signed a contract for four more children’s books. The first was already at the printers’.

  It had been James who had given her the idea. By the age of three he had already learnt to read simple books, and when Penny was at home he loved her telling him bedtime tales, that were often based on historical fact. She had looked for some early learning books on history and been unable to find any.

  So she had written and illustrated one. James had loved it, and after her final exams were over last June, she had sent it to a publishing house. With the death of her father and Veronica, she had forgotten all about it, until she had received a letter saying they liked it and were going to publish it and suggested she wrote a whole series.

  In the afternoon she had had an appointment with Mr Simpson, her father’s lawyer. Thinking the will had passed probate, she had walked into his office, happier than she had been in months, and hoping for more good news.

  Mr Simpson had gone over the will again. He had informed her Mrs Brown’s pension was secure and there was a reasonable amount of cash divided between Penny and James equally, and in the event of Veronica’s death Penny would be James’s legal guardian. Penny had been aware of all this, and she’d already known Haversham Park was hers, because he had read the will out after the funeral.

  ‘Now we come to the hard part, so to speak,’ Mr Simpson said gruffly. ‘Your father was a lovely man, but paperwork was not his forte. Another document has come to light, perfectly legal and above board, but the actuality is you only inherit a half-share in Haversham Park. It seems your father sold the other half to a third party.’

  The news came as a complete body-blow to Penny. She could not believe it. ‘What?’ she exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror. ‘A third party, I don’t believe it! Daddy would have told me.’ Someone else owned half her home! The thought was mind-boggling. What was she supposed to do—share her home, or split the house down the middle? She had the hysterical desire to laugh—the whole idea was ludicrous. But one look at Mr Simpson’s serious face and she knew he was not joking.

  Penny paled as a premonition that worse was to come filled her mind. She had to ask the question, but her mouth was suddenly dry.

  ‘I don’t know why he didn’t,’ Mr Simpson continued. ‘But I have to tell you the inheritance tax on the value of your father’s estate is quite considerable.’ He mentioned a figure that had her mouth falling open in shock. ‘If you don’t sell your share of Haversham Park you can’t pay the inheritance tax and you will eventually be declared bankrupt, and the house will be sold anyway by the Inland Revenue.’ Things could not get worse, but they did…

  ‘But it is not all bad. I have spoken to the other party.’

  ‘Who is the other party?’ Penny asked hoarsely, finally managing to speak.

  ‘Well, that is the good news. He is an Italian gentleman, a Mr Solo Maffeiano.’

  At the mention of Solo, the little colour left in Penny’s face drained away, her stomach heaved. Solo Maffeiano owned half her home. No, no, no, she screamed silently. Life could not be so cruel. But as Mr Simpson’s voice droned on she was forced to accept it could.

  ‘He tells me you know each other, and he is quite agreeable to talk over the options available. You sell to him or you put the place on the open market and share the proceeds. Either way, Penelope, you will be all right.’ Mr Simpson actually smiled.

  Penny shivered, nausea clawing at her stomach, and she could not respond.

  ‘You can buy
a smaller place, much more sensible for you and James. The inheritance tax can be paid, and you will still have enough to live on plus the money to set up a trust fund for your brother’s education.’ Mr Simpson beamed and looked at Penny and he realised his client was far from happy. She looked terrified, as though the weight of the world had just fallen on her shoulders.

  He stood up from behind his desk and walked around to Penny, putting a fatherly hand on her drooping shoulder. ‘I realise it has come as a shock to you, my dear. But, believe me, selling is the sensible solution, the only solution.’

  Penny shook her head, and dragged herself up on shaking legs. ‘There must be something I can do,’ she pleaded, ‘Rather than involve Mr Maff…eiano.’ She choked on his name. To have to sell her home was horrific, but not half as bad as the thought she might have to see Solo again. He had hurt her so much in the past she couldn’t bear to face him. ‘If I must sell the house, please, you arrange it for me, Mr Simpson.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Penelope, it is all in hand. I have taken the liberty of setting up a meeting for you tomorrow at noon at Maffeiano’s London office.’

  ‘Please could you go for me? Whatever you arrange I’ll accept, but keep me out of it.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. Mr Maffeiano has insisted on dealing with you personally. But it will work out fine, I’m sure.’ Mr Simpson pressed a card with the address on it into her hand. ‘Now, why don’t you run along and do some shopping, cheer yourself up?’

  Mr Simpson looked pleased, while Penny looked sick when she had finally left the lawyer’s office. She could not believe what had happened; it was her worst nightmare realised. She was dreading having to meet Solo again, but she had no choice.

  She could vividly remember the horrendous scene when Solo had caught her in the arms of Simon. Incredulous anger had been followed by a tirade of what had sounded like curses in Italian and then, as if a switch had been thrown in his brain, he’d stepped back, coldly remote and in complete control.