From Waif To His Wife

at handling parties so they go without a hitch.’

‘She might need to be,’ Maisie murmured. ‘Do you really think we need to do this?’ she asked with a frown in her eyes. ‘Because we aren’t-we don’t…’ She stopped awkwardly.

‘We don’t know each other in the biblical sense?’ he supplied a little drily. ‘I really think,’ he paused, ‘all we need to show is that we’re friends.’

‘There,’ Sonia said just before her soiree was about to get underway. ‘You look lovely.’

They were in Sonia’s bedroom at Raby Bay. Maisie stared at her image in the long mirror and conceded to herself that she was happy with the way she looked, although how she felt was another matter.

The outfit she and Sonia had chosen was black voile over a taffeta lining; a sleeveless, hip-length blouson top and a slim skirt. The silky voile was sheer from the tops of her breasts over her shoulders, and black really highlighted her glowing, smooth skin, plus the voile over a taffeta lining felt floaty and looked wonderfully dressy.

Her legs were bare and her high, slender-heeled strappy sandals were black patent with rhinestones studded on them.

She and Sonia had spent a couple of hours in Sonia’s favourite beauty salon so they were perfumed and beautifully groomed. Once again Maisie’s hair was teased out and her red curls shone. Her make-up was less than full-stage but accentuated her eyes, and her lips were painted a shimmering, deep-tawny colour.

Her fingernails, although short, as they had to be for a pianist, were beautifully manicured and painted to match her lips. So were her toes.

‘You probably wouldn’t know,’ she said as she turned to look at herself side-on, ‘that I’m pregnant.’

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Rafe said, coming into the room. ‘You look…you both look wonderful.’

Sonia laughed. ‘If I’m any judge, your wife is going to steal the show, Rafe. OK.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Heavens above, it’s a quarter to four-only fifteen minutes! Excuse me, you two.’ And she bustled out.

Maisie hesitated. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself,’ she said, and winced inwardly because she thought he looked sensational in a light grey suit with a navy shirt and tie.

He shrugged. ‘Thanks. I’ve got something to add to your outfit.’ And he pulled a leather box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a diamond pendant on a silver strand circular necklet.

Maisie gasped as the stone lay in his palm, reflecting fire from its facets. ‘Who-whose is that?’ she stammered.

‘It was my mother’s but-’

‘I can’t wear that-if that’s what you had in mind,’ she amended.

‘It is what I had in mind,’ he said with some irony, ‘because to those in the know, it will really set the seal on our marriage-and that’s what we want, don’t we, Maisie?’

‘Well, yes, but it must be worth a fortune and-no, no, I couldn’t accept your mother’s jewellery.’

‘It’s not precisely in the nature of a gift,’ he said. ‘You’re right, it is worth a fortune, so after this…outing it will go back to the bank.’

‘Thank heavens!’ she breathed. ‘But I still wouldn’t feel right about wearing it!’

‘Maisie,’ he eyed her with a mixture of exasperation and something she couldn’t identify, ‘trust me and just do it!’

She eyed him back with her chin tilted.

‘Please,’ he added with a sudden smile lurking at the backs of his eyes.

It undid her, that smile. It actually turned her to jelly inside, and she nodded, barely perceptibly.

‘Turn round,’ he said.

She did, slowly.

He looped the circlet around her neck and did up the catch. His fingers were warm on her skin and she closed her eyes briefly then opened them to squint down at the stone lying just below the round neckline of her dress.

Then she looked up and their gazes caught and held in the mirror and it shook her to think that they looked- what was the word?-so fit for each other, she in her beautiful outfit and perfectly groomed, he, so tall and masculine…

And she found herself holding her breath for a moment as he looked down at her, and his hands moved at his sides and she thought, she really thought he was going to put his arms around her.

It didn’t happen, and when he looked into her eyes again, his were as shuttered as she’d seen them once before, at the muster camp.

She let out a long, uneven breath and he turned away.

‘Ready?’

‘Yes.’

But she was far from ready for anything, until, as they went downstairs together, she remembered her last practical music exam for her bachelor’s degree.

She’d been so nervous she’d been convinced she would fail dismally, but at the last minute before she sat down at the piano she’d thought to herself, you can do this. Just put yourself in a bubble and don’t let anything else intrude, not moderators, not the fact that it’s a strange piano, nothing but you and your music.

And that’s what I need to do now, she thought as she reached the bottom of the staircase at her husband’s side. Take Rafe’s advice and put myself in a bubble where I can only be myself despite ubiquitous Dixons, despite being pregnant to a man who is not my husband, despite Rafe…

Sonia had a conservatory overlooking the water and there were about twenty people gathered amidst the potted plants and the cane and rattan furniture. It was an elegant, charming area and there was a piano at one end.

There was a white-coated steward serving champagne and a pretty girl dispensing canapes.

About an hour into the soiree Rafe Sanderson watched his wife from across the room, and marvelled a little.

He and Sonia had stayed close throughout the introductions to three of his aunts and their husbands, assorted cousins and their partners and several nieces and nephews.

Then Sonia had moved away to work her entertaining magic, that knack she had of getting her guests to relax so that soon the conservatory had come alive with animated conversation and laughter. And Maisie had got separated from him but she’d handled it with the poise of-of course, he thought to himself-Mairead Wallis.

‘But what brought you two together?’ he heard one of his aunts, a dragon-lady according to the younger members of the clan, ask.

‘Well, I guess you could say it was sailing,’ Maisie responded then smiled enchantingly. ‘A bit like Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark and Mary Donaldson, except that our Ship Inn was the Mary- Lue.’

His dragon aunt Nancy, he saw, looked gratified, and he had to award Maisie ten out of ten for an inspired response that not only had elements of truth in it, but also elevated this unknown girl he’d married to suitable heights.

On the other hand, she does think fast on her feet, he reflected, and found the thought niggled him.

‘So what are you?’ he heard his cousin Amelia, pure Dixon from her sculpted fair hair and grey eyes down to the pointed toes of her handmade Jimmy Choo shoes, enquire. ‘Do you have a career?’

‘Yes,’ he heard Maisie reply, ‘music. I taught it but now I’m studying for my Master’s Degree.’

‘Do you perform?’

‘Yes, well, I have.’

‘A chamber orchestra, a quartet?’

‘No, much livelier than that.’ Maisie bestowed a sparkling green look on Amelia. ‘Jazz, rhythm and blues, disco- that kind of thing, in a band.’

Amelia raised her eyebrows and Rafe moved forward to stop what he knew was going to be inevitable, but he was too late.

‘Do give us a tune, then,’ Amelia said, her well-bred tones just a little sceptical.

He saw Sonia zooming in from the other side of the conservatory.

But Maisie bestowed another charming, bewitching smile on his cousin, and said, ‘With pleasure! Although I’ll make it short.’