From Waif To His Wife

‘What?’ he asked with a frown.

‘It moved,’ she breathed. ‘It-moved. The baby.’

‘First time?’ he queried.

She nodded.

‘Do you know what it is?’

‘A girl.’ Her eyes softened. ‘I’ve just had a scan. I’m going to call her Susannah, after my mother. I’ve already started to call her Susie, for short. I-sometimes talk to her, just nonsense. Does she think she’ll have red hair?’ Her green eyes twinkled and were incredibly tender for a moment, then she sobered abruptly.

‘Perhaps Susie agrees with me,’ he said wryly. Then his face changed. ‘And perhaps, Maisie, that’s what you should think of foremost-your baby.’

An extraordinary clarity of vision suddenly came to Maisie. If she didn’t marry Rafe Sanderson, what future could she offer a child? A lurid past, her reputation in tatters, always looking over her shoulder, finding it hard to get a job unless she moved elsewhere and tried to start a new life…

‘I…’ She took several breaths. ‘You could be right. I don’t seem to have much option. But it is not something I would do under any other circumstances.’

He said nothing.

‘I know that sounds ungracious-’

‘It sounds typically Maisie Wallis,’ he drawled. ‘But perhaps this will ease your conscience or your sensibilities. I feel some responsibility for you, I am after all distantly related to your baby, and I wouldn’t have allowed you to do anything else.’

‘You…you,’ she spluttered but couldn’t go on.

He stood up. ‘Believe me, Maisie. But look, let’s make the best of things. Surely this must lift quite a weight off your shoulders?’

Only to be replaced by another weight? she wondered. The weight of loving you when I know it can’t be returned?

She licked her lips. ‘Yes,’ she said only, though.

CHAPTER EIGHT

TWO weeks later, Maisie read about herself in the paper.

In a surprise statement, Rafael Sanderson, previously one of the country’s most eligible bachelors as the CEO of Sanderson Minerals and the head of the Dixon pastoralist empire, announced that he had married in an entirely private family ceremony. Little is known of his wife, Mairead Sanderson nee Wallis, and no details of the wedding were given.

Above the article were two photos, one of Rafe in a dinner suit and one of Maisie, a studio portrait Rafe had organised and supplied to the paper. In it she looked very expensive, wearing a chartreuse linen designer outfit against a floral background and sporting an exquisite engagement ring, a baguette emerald surrounded by diamonds.

But Maisie also thought she looked like a startled deer about to take flight.

The speed with which Rafe had moved had almost taken Maisie’s breath away.

She’d moved into a luxurious apartment two days after his visit, an apartment leased in Jack Huston’s name. She’d been relieved to be able to do so after she’d answered the phone at her home several times but the caller had hung up.

That was when it had really hit-the awful feeling that there were prying eyes out there, possibly even people following her. She found herself looking over her shoulder a lot. That was when she’d really started to feel dreadfully alone and afraid…

Then-she hadn’t been sure if this was a relief or not-Rafe had had to fly to Melbourne for several days on urgent, unexpected business…and his sister, Sonia, had come to stay with Maisie…

‘I have no idea how I’m supposed to feel about this,’ she swept into the apartment saying, ‘but I’m Sonia Sanderson, Rafe tells me he’s marrying you and he needs me to look after you for a few days-Oh!’ She stopped abruptly and regarded Maisie with her hands on her hips and a frown.

Sonia was dark with flashing eyes and an imperious air. She took in Maisie’s stretch tartan tights and loose fleecy-lined green top, her hair gathered in a bunch of curls, her flat ballet-style shoes. ‘You’re not exactly what I expected,’ she added.

‘You don’t have to stay and look after me,’ Maisie said quietly. ‘I can look after myself.’

‘My dear,’ Sonia said caustically, ‘despite the fact that I’m his older sister, like everyone else, when Rafe says jump, I jump.’

‘So I’ve experienced,’ Maisie replied with obvious bitterness.

Several expressions chased through Sonia’s eyes.

Then she said, ‘Let’s start again. Should we be friends? Because I get the feeling you might be in need of a friend and I’m actually rather fond of Rafe despite his infuriating ways. I believe you’re pregnant and that bastard Tim Dixon is responsible?’

Maisie sat down unexpectedly and burst into tears. Sonia brought her tissues and patted her shoulder then she made a cup of tea.

When the worst of it was over and Maisie was sipping her tea gratefully, she said, ‘Sorry. I’ve actually placed a ban on any more tears; I don’t usually cry at the drop of a hat but…’ She gestured a little helplessly.

‘Pregnancy alone can do that to you, as I should know, having been there three times myself, but a contretemps of this nature on top of it…’ Sonia shrugged. ‘But you have agreed to marry Rafe, haven’t you?’

‘Only because I won’t have a shred of reputation left to me if I don’t and that’s not the kind of background I want for this baby. No child deserves that.’

‘So,’ Sonia paused, ‘does he make your skin crawl or something like that?’

Maisie blinked. ‘Rafe?’

‘Yes.’

‘No! I mean, no, he doesn’t, but,’ she hesitated, ‘that’s no reason to get married.’

Sonia eyed her for a long moment. ‘Is there anyone in your life who would strongly object to you marrying Rafe?’

‘No.’

‘Is there any part of your life that’s going to be hard to give up?’

Maisie paused. ‘I loved my job but that’s definitely gone and, really, I can only blame myself for that.’ She pinched her nose then blew it. ‘Otherwise,’ she shrugged, ‘I’m only twenty-two so it’s not as if anything had been cast in concrete for me. Still…’ She threaded her fingers together.

Sonia said shrewdly, ‘Are you afraid of falling in love with Rafe? You know, you two could find you’re right for each other. If nothing else, he must be very concerned about you to do this.’

‘I think,’ Maisie said carefully, ‘that falling in love with him would be a very foolish thing for a girl like me to do. Can you imagine your brother wanting someone carrying another man’s child?’

‘No.’ Sonia sighed. ‘Especially not Tim Dixon’s. I’m sorry,’ she added immediately, ‘please don’t take that the wrong way. I just-’ she banged her palm on her forehead ‘-can be the most tactless person sometimes. But look, may I stay? And if you are going to marry Rafe, may I help you through it?’

Sonia had been invaluable as company and in a practical way.

Maisie had discovered, when she’d enquired who was looking after Sonia’s children, that Rafe’s sister was separated from her husband, although fairly amicably apparently, and their father was looking after them.

So far as practicalities went, Sonia had insisted that Maisie would need a new wardrobe and not only to accommodate her expanding waist, as she put it.

‘It hasn’t expanded that much yet and I think the idea is for me to be in seclusion, anyway,’ Maisie protested.

‘It will! And seclusion maybe but not solitary confinement!’ Sonia shot back then grinned. ‘Besides which, shopping is therapeutic, and if anyone can afford it, Rafe can. Anyway, summer’s coming and who doesn’t shop for