by Ginna Gray
"I'm going to do just what I promised that I would do. Give the offer a lot of thought, then call Max with my decision." Elizabeth added her customary dollop of cream to her coffee, stirred it and gave her friend a smile before she took a sip.
Mimi stopped pacing and gaped at Elizabeth. "Surely you're not actually considering saying yes?"
"Why not? Max is rich, he's attractive—in a rough sort of way—and he's willing to bail me out of my financial fix. Sounds like a perfect solution to me. You yourself said that you and the girls at the club have been drooling over him. And you have to admit, he has made a generous offer. I'm not likely to get a deal like that anywhere else."
"Offer! Deal!" Fairly crackling now with outrage, Mimi stood over Elizabeth with her fists planted on her hips. "Have you lost your freakin' mind! We're talking marriage here. Not a corporate merger! How can you even think about accepting such a ridiculous proposal?"
Wound tight as a spring, she started pacing again, gesturing wildly with both hands. "The man's practically a stranger, for God's sake! I've heard him described as a wheeler-dealer, an entrepreneur and an investment mogul, but no one seems to know exactly what it is he does. For all we know, he really could be a drug dealer or … or … a gangster! He could even be a serial killer. Or … or a hit man for the mob."
Elizabeth laughed. "Honestly, Mimi. What a vivid imagination you have."
It was the first time in months Elizabeth had experienced genuine amusement. The lighthearted sensation that wafted through her was a welcome release from the constant worry that had weighed her down for so long. Thanks to Maxwell Riordan, she felt as though an iron weight had been lifted from her chest.
Her amusement, however, had the opposite effect on Mimi. Scowling, she stopped in her tracks and snapped, "Dammit, Elizabeth! This is no laughing matter!"
Deciding that she'd teased her friend long enough, Elizabeth relented. "Relax. Of course I'm not going to accept Max's proposal. I was just pulling your leg a little."
Mimi gave her a dubious look. Deciding she was telling the truth, she sank down onto the sofa, kicked off her high heels, stretched her long dancer's legs out across the cushions and, with a dramatic sigh, leaned her head back against the padded arm. "Well, that's a relief."
"Mmm." Elizabeth tapped the edge of the card that Max had given her against her pursed lips. "Although, Max did provide me with an answer to my dilemma."
"Oh? What's that?"
"I hadn't thought of marriage as a solution to my problems, but it's really not a bad idea."
As though she'd been shot from a cannon, Mimi popped back up to a sitting position and swung her feet to the floor. "What? Elizabeth Victoria Stanton! I'm shocked."
Elizabeth shrugged. "As Max pointed out, people do marry for all sorts of reasons. He was also right about Edward and me. I was in love with him, and he swore that he loved me, too. Yet he betrayed me, robbed me blind and broke my heart. Maybe I would be better off marrying for practical reasons."
"Oh, sugar, don't say that."
"Why not? It seems to me that if you're honest about everything from the beginning and you both go into the marriage with your eyes wide open, not expecting any more than a loyal helpmate, well then, what would be the harm?"
"The harm would be that you're not being fair to yourself. What if later on you did meet someone and fall in love? You'd be trapped in a loveless marriage."
Elizabeth shook her head. "That's not going to happen. To tell you the truth, despite what I said to Max about being a romantic, I've lost all faith in love. I had already decided that I would never marry again. That I'd never again trust anyone with my heart—or my inheritance.
"However, it's beginning to look as though marrying a rich man is about the only option open to me if I'm going to have any hope of hanging on to Mimosa Landing."
"There has to be another way," Mimi said in almost a desperate voice. "There must be something else you can do."
"If you can think of something, I'm open to suggestions." She watched her friend's mouth open and close several times as she groped in vain to come up with an alternative. Elizabeth returned her coffee cup and saucer to the table and straightened, fixing Mimi with a wry look. "You see? There is no other way."
"I guess you're right," Mimi replied with a defeated sigh.
"If I have to marry for money to save Mimosa Landing, I prefer that my groom at least be someone I know."
"Do you have someone in mind? Someone besides Max Riordan, that is?"
"Actually, I do. As you know, Wyatt Lassiter has been begging me to marry him."
Mimi groaned.
"What?" Elizabeth demanded. "What's wrong with Wyatt?"
"You mean besides being a pompous ass? And an arrogant, spoiled little rich boy who lives on Mama's and Daddy's money?"
"That's not true. Wyatt has a job," Elizabeth defended.
"Oh, sure, he's supposed to be a practicing attorney with Fossbinder, Lassiter and Drummond, but I doubt that he spends ten hours a week at the law firm. If his daddy wasn't a partner he wouldn't even be on the payroll. I swear, sugar, you have the most abominable taste in men. First Edward, now Wyatt."
"I didn't say that I was attracted to Wyatt," Elizabeth insisted. "I simply think he would be a safe choice for a husband. We're friends. I've known him almost all of my life."
"You'd known Edward all of your life, too. Remember?"
"That's not fair. Where Edward was concerned I was blinded by a foolish, young girl's love. Wyatt knows that I don't feel that way about him. I've made that perfectly clear on numerous occasions, but he claims that he doesn't care. He says that he loves me enough for both of us. He's confident that, given time, I will return his love."
"He would be," Mimi said with a disdainful sniff. "With his ego, he can't imagine that any woman wouldn't swoon at his feet."
"Wyatt is cocky and self-absorbed, but there are worse traits. I know that all of this sounds selfish and one-sided, but if he'll have me, and bail me out of debt, I'll be a good wife to Wyatt. I swear I will."
Mimi knew her well, and Elizabeth could see that her friend had recognized and accepted the determination in her voice. She looked at Elizabeth, her blue eyes limpid with sadness. "I know you will, sugar," she said in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. "I know you will."
* * *
Three
« ^ »
"Mr. Lassiter is here to see you, Miss Elizabeth," Gladys announced from the parlor doorway.
Elizabeth's nerves tightened, but she squared her shoulders and drew a deep breath. She'd thought long and hard about her situation for almost a week, and she'd made her decision. This was no time for second thoughts.
"Show him in, please, Gladys."
Gladys nodded, and seconds later Elizabeth's old friend, Wyatt Lassiter, came striding into the parlor.
"Elizabeth, sweetheart, I was delighted to get your message. Although, I was going to take a chance that you hadn't returned to Mimosa Landing yet and drop by today, anyway." He held both of his hands out to her, and when she gripped them he pulled her to him and kissed her cheek. "You look gorgeous, as always," he said, stepping back to survey her from head to toe.
"Thank you." Elizabeth pulled her hands free, experiencing a vague uneasiness that Wyatt's nearness had generated not one iota of reaction in her. Not attraction, not revulsion, not contentment. Nothing.
"Won't you sit down?" She gestured toward one of the sofas sitting at right angles to the fireplace.
In that fussy way he had, Wyatt carefully hitched up his pant legs and sat down, then straightened the creases in the material just so. Elizabeth sat down in her favorite of the two Queen Anne chairs that flanked the hearth. "Ah, here's Gladys with our coffee," she said, grateful for the small interruption.
The older woman fussed with the tray and exchanged a few polite words with Wyatt. Elizabeth used the lull to give her guest a curious once-over. Why wasn't she attracted to him?
He was nice-lo
oking, in an aristocratic sort of way. He was considered quite a catch among their social set.
Though thirty-nine and quite the ladies' man, Wyatt had never been married. His blond hair was going a bit thin on top, but expert styling hid that for the most part. Just as good tailoring helped to disguise that, like his father, Henry, he was getting a bit fleshy with age, especially around the midsection. Despite those physical flaws, he was still an attractive man. An attractive, very wealthy man.
Maybe she'd never been attracted to Wyatt because he was ten years her senior, and until recently, she had not thought of him as a contemporary. Or maybe she had simply known him too long to think of him in romantic terms. Long familiarity had certainly dulled the romance in her marriage to Edward.
What did it matter? If Wyatt never aroused so much as a flicker of passion in her, so what? That part of her marriage to Edward hadn't been all that exciting, either. She and Wyatt had a lot in common and they were old friends. She was confident that they could get along well as husband and wife.
Who are you trying to convince, the rest of the world or yourself? a little voice in her head prodded, but Elizabeth pushed it aside.
She and Wyatt would have to sign a prenuptial agreement, of course. Max Riordan had the right idea there.
Elizabeth poured the coffee, taking her time about the simple task, but when Gladys left and they were comfortably settled she knew she could stall no longer.
"I know you're wondering what it is that I want to talk to you about."
Wyatt took a sip of coffee, then gave her one of his most charming smiles. "I'm happy for any excuse to see you."
"Thank you." Elizabeth stared down at the shiny surface of her coffee, as though she would find courage there. Finally she drew a deep breath and looked up, straight into Wyatt's hazel eyes. "I was wondering if you still want to marry me?"
His face lit up. "Of course I do." He put the cup and saucer down on the coffee table and sat forward on the sofa, his expression eager. "Does this mean that you've decided to accept my proposal?"
"Possibly."
"Oh, sweetheart, you've just made me the happiest man on earth." Wyatt started to stand up, but she stopped him with a raised hand.
"Wait. Don't say anything yet. Before I say yes, there is something I have to tell you."
He sat back, an amused smile on his face. "All right. But whatever it is, it won't make any difference, I assure you."
"Hear me out before you commit yourself. Okay?"
"All right."
"First of all, I want you to know that I'm fond of you, but I'm not in love with you. I know I've told you that before, but I want to be certain that you understand that."
"I'm not worried. Love will come later. As I said before, I love you enough for both of us."
"I also have to be honest with you about … about my financial situation."
For the first time since he walked into the room, Wyatt's expression turned somber. "What do you mean?"
"It isn't common knowledge yet, although I'm certain it will be before long, but I've recently discovered that, over a period of years, Edward systematically raided all the Stanton holdings and transferred the money to his private Swiss account."
"What? Why that sorry…" Wyatt clenched his jaw, and his face worked with anger. "I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose. I never did like the man, especially after he stole you right out from under my nose the way he did."
"Pardon?" Confused and diverted by the statement, Elizabeth gaped at him. "What do you mean, he 'stole' me?"
"Sweetheart, I picked you out as the future Mrs. Wyatt Lassiter years ago, when you were just a little girl. Why do you think I've stayed single so long? I was waiting for you to grow up so that I could court you. Before I had a chance, you were engaged to Edward. Believe me, I was furious. Then last year I was equally delighted when he ran out on you. Although, of course, I regretted that he'd hurt you," he hurried to amend. "But I had no idea that he'd robbed you as well. The bastard."
Blinking, Elizabeth stared at him, at a loss for words. Was she supposed to be flattered that he had singled her out from all the females he knew? Like cutting a cow from the herd? Without any consideration for her feelings on the matter?
Wyatt stood up and started pacing the room. "How much damage did Edward do?"
"A lot," Elizabeth said, watching for his reaction. "Except for this house and Mimosa Landing, the Stanton fortune is all but wiped out."
Stopping short, Wyatt stared at her. She could almost swear that he had turned pale. "Good Lord. That much? Surely you've consulted with John. What's being done to recoup your money?"
"At the moment, nothing. John tried, but Edward was too clever. Apparently there is no legal recourse open to me."
Wyatt looked as though he'd taken a blow to the solar plexus. It was the first time she'd ever seen him rattled. He raked his fingers through his hair, unconsciously mussing his careful do.
"I see. Well that, uh … that changes the picture quite a bit, doesn't it?"
"I suppose it does," Elizabeth replied. Her gaze followed his restless pacing back and forth across the room. In deep thought, he frowned and pounded one fist into the palm of his other hand. It was not the reaction she had hoped he would have. An uneasy sensation began to niggle at her. "From the way you're taking this, I have to assume that my financial situation nullifies your proposal."
He winced at that. Sitting down at the end of the sofa, as close to her as he could get, he leaned forward and took one of her hands in his. "Elizabeth, sweetheart, you have to know that I'm crazy about you. And that I'd give almost anything if I could make you my wife."
Elizabeth cocked one eyebrow. "I think I hear a 'but' coming."
Wyatt sighed and gave her a regretful look. "Please understand. I have to think of my family. I'm expected to marry well. Every Lassiter is, male or female. That means I must marry someone with impeccable breeding, social position … and wealth. You, of course, meet the first two criteria with flying colors. No family in Texas is more respected than the Stantons. However, my family would never tolerate me marrying someone who would not bring additional wealth to the Lassiter holdings."
"I see." Elizabeth withdrew her hand from his. "Then it appears that we have nothing left to discuss."
"Well … not necessarily. Let's look at all our options before we give up. You could probably get a couple of million for this place, although I was planning on making this our home. On the other hand, Mimosa Landing is a virtual gold mine. Large parcels of land like that along the Brazos River are in short supply in today's world. If you'd be willing to sign over the farm to me, say … as sort of a dowry, I think I could convince my family to accept a marriage between us."
An ironic little smile tipped up the corners of Elizabeth's mouth. "Really? How generous of them. However, that's not going to happen."
"But, sweetheart, it's the perfect solution."
"For you, maybe. I'm sorry, Wyatt. I've already lost most of my assets by turning control of them over to someone else. That's a mistake I won't make again."
He sat back with an affronted expression. "Are you saying that you don't trust me? I am not Edward Culpepper, you know."
"True. But that land has been in my family for more than a hundred and eighty years. Stantons have poured their lives into that farm. I have no intention of relinquishing ownership or control of so much as an acre of the place. Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, Mimosa Landing will remain in Stanton hands."
Wyatt's mouth compressed into a grim line. "Really, Elizabeth. I credited you with more common sense than this. You're romanticizing that farm. It's just land. Not some sort of shrine to your ancestors. If your finances are in the deplorable shape that you say, you have to be practical."
Elizabeth cocked her head to one side and studied him for a long moment. Why hadn't she seen it before? He wanted Mimosa Landing. And he was willing to marry her to get it.
"You're right," she agreed final
ly. "Practicality is called for in this situation. I must do what I have to do."
Wyatt looked relieved. "Good. When I tell my dad that you'll be signing over Mimosa Landing to me, I'm sure he'll have no problem with the marriage." He reached across the space between them and patted her knee. "I knew that I could count on you to be sensible."
"No, you misunderstand me. You and I won't be getting married."
"But you just said—"
"I said I would be practical. And I will. But on my own terms."
"Elizabeth. Sweetheart, listen to me…"
Wyatt did his best to get her to change her mind. He cajoled and reasoned and pleaded. Several times he came close to losing his temper. Through it all Elizabeth calmly but adamantly stuck to her refusal.
As she listened to Wyatt it occurred to her that even had she not already made up her mind, his condescending tone would have driven her to refuse him. She'd never noticed before, but he spoke to her as though she were a not-too-bright child in need of his guidance.
Finally, tired of the endless discussion, she stood up and announced, "I'm sorry, Wyatt, but you'll have to excuse me. I have some calls to make."
"Very well. Perhaps it would be best if I left you to think things over," he arrogantly told her while she saw him to the door. "I'm certain that when you're thinking clearly you'll change your mind."
Elizabeth merely smiled. Closing the door behind him, she leaned her forehead against the thick mahogany panel and sighed. Oddly, she felt almost weak with relief.
Straightening, she returned to the parlor, deep in thought, and through one of the tall windows she watched Wyatt climb into his Mercedes and drive away down the long drive.
The nerve of the man. Did he really think she was so dim-witted that she would give him Mimosa Landing? Not on your life.
Although … she supposed she couldn't truly take offense. After all, her reason for accepting Wyatt's proposal had been financial. She couldn't very well fault him for having the same motive.
Except that he claimed to love her.
Elizabeth sighed again. No matter. She knew what she had to do.