Convenient Brides Read online

  Simon looked around interestedly. ‘Could you tell me about that?’

  ‘Sure.’ Brett stood up. ‘Let’s do the dishes at the same time. And I guess your mum would like a cup of coffee.’

  They left Ellie on the terrace—prey to some conflicting emotions. An ache in her heart because the time had finally come for Simon to think about his father. She’d tried to prepare herself as well as she could for the in-evitable questions and had fallen at the first fence—not even remembering what school Tom had been to. But the most conflicting emotion was—how much more hero worship would Brett Spencer earn as the one person Simon could talk to about Tom?

  Coffee came but Simon decided to take himself to bed.

  He shook his head as he yawned mightily and said quaintly, ‘It’s all that fresh air! Night, Mum.’ He kissed her and took himself off.

  Brett sat down.

  ‘What…what did you tell him?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘How good Tom used to be at cricket, how he’d always been fascinated by building bridges and roads, how he was the only person I ever knew who could imitate a fish perfectly—that kind of thing.’

  ‘And polo? I’ve only ever told him it was a riding accident.’

  Brett seemed to go quite still for a moment. Then he said, barely audibly, ‘No. I didn’t mention polo. About his schooling, Ellie?’

  She sighed and thought for a bit. Tom’s old school had an excellent academic as well as sporting record, not to mention conferring considerable status in the old-school-tie stakes. ‘There’s no way I could afford it even if I could get him in.’

  ‘I could.’

  It was Ellie’s turn to go still. Then she said awk-wardly, ‘I know you could afford it but what about the waiting list? I’m sure there is one.’

  He stared at her for a long moment. ‘There is, but there are also places for old boys’ sons.’

  ‘That might have helped if Tom and I had been married but we weren’t,’ she said, ‘so I don’t suppose it applies. And I couldn’t accept any more financial help from you, Brett.’

  ‘I was talking about—as my son.’

  Ellie blinked rapidly. ‘You mean…?’

  ‘If we got married, Ellie, I could get Simon into the school his father went to and his best friend is going to, but those aren’t the only reasons—it’s a damn good school and he has so much potential, he deserves it.’

  ‘Brett,’ she whispered, ‘I can’t believe this!’

  ‘Why not?’ he asked impatiently.

  ‘Is there…’ she hesitated and made herself think as clearly as she could ‘…is there something that’s made you decide you need a wife? And since I’m—virtually—in place, so to speak, I might as well be it?’

  ‘No. I wouldn’t put it like that.’ He paused and nar-rowed his eyes. ‘But we are “in place”. We’re virtually living a phantom marriage right now. And the reason we got here was because we both have the same person’s interests very much at heart. That has never changed. Only it’s got more critical now, and up until now I’ve had the easy part.’ He paused again. ‘I also have Simon’s blessing.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He saw us that night.’

  ‘I know but…’ She was lost for words.

  ‘He came to me the next morning very much man-to-man and explained how it had happened. He also gave me to understand I had his blessing, and he gave me some advice.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ But it was more out of sheer frus-tration that she said it—she could quite believe it of Simon.

  ‘When did he tell you?’ Brett enquired.

  ‘The morning he rang from camp. Advice?’ she repeated with deep misgiving. ‘What kind of advice?’

  ‘He explained that in his opinion you were a very cautious person, you didn’t take easily to new ideas and it was all in the handling.’

  Ellie all but choked.

  ‘He is your son,’ Brett commented wryly.

  ‘I just hope you…didn’t get his hopes up, Brett Spencer!’

  He watched her for a moment. ‘I’ve discovered that with Simon there are times when you don’t need to say much. So I was essentially noncommittal. Although I think I gave him to understand that he needn’t play an active role in any negotiations between you and I.’

  ‘Brett, has it occurred to you that you seem to spend a lot of time giving people advice they don’t take?’

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  ‘Well, there’s Chantal Jones, still more than convinced you’re the right man for her, and Simon—’ She broke off and bit her lip.

  ‘He gave you some advice despite my advice?’ Brett suggested wryly. ‘Even his blessing perhaps?’

  Ellie was silent, in itself a dead give away.

  ‘There you go, then,’ Brett said. ‘As for the romantic side of things, that’s also “in place”, wouldn’t you say?’ There was more than a tinge of irony in his grey eyes.

  She shivered suddenly. ‘Romance is one thing, love is another and that’s what I need. It’s been too long and hard a road to…compromise.’

  ‘Love can come and go,’ he said evenly. ‘It could even be the most misunderstood emotion of all. But what might make it prosper is a common goal such as providing a child with a stable family life.’

  She flinched this time.

  He saw it and added, ‘As a matter of fact I not only have Simon’s best interests at heart, but yours as well. Can you honestly tell me, Ellie, that a stable married life to me wouldn’t be a better bet than a succession of—artists, musicians and back-to-nature freaks?’

  She was silent, feeling hurt and foolish, and, because of it, on the defensive but what came next wiped the floor with her pride.

  ‘Can you honestly say—’ he sat forward ‘—that cer-tain emotions the long, hard road froze are not cla-mouring for expression now? Eleven years is a long time to clamp down on wanting to…live and love.’

  She closed her eyes.

  ‘In that sense,’ he went on quietly, ‘I am a much better bet than the choices you’ve made up to now.’

  He saw it in her eyes as her lashes fluttered up, as if a shutter had come down, and knew he’d gone too far and hurt her pride. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. In fact it was worse. He didn’t care that he couldn’t help himself. Why? Because he’d never before acknowledged to himself how hard he’d had to clamp down on the interest she’d aroused in him all those years ago? The interest that had caused him to wonder about his best friend’s girl in ways that he shouldn’t have. That interest and curiosity about her essence as a woman…

  Had it then become habit, he wondered, that clamping down? Helped along by a streak of guilt because he’d thought of her the way he had while she’d been Tom’s girl? Although one thing had never changed. He had always been determined to do as much for Tom King’s son as he could.

  She drained her coffee and stood up. ‘On the other hand, I think Chantal is a much better bet for you, Brett.’

  ‘Ellie.’ His voice was suddenly hard. ‘I have no intention of letting Tom’s son be subjected to your dubious choice in men.’

  She gasped as he got up and towered over her looking determined enough to do anything. But she stood her ground and paid the price. He took her in his arms.

  ‘Brett, this is not what I would have believed of you,’ she said stiffly.

  A flicker of amusement chased through his eyes. ‘Why not? I’m a man and I’ve been wanting to kiss you for eleven years.’

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ she contradicted. ‘It may have crossed your mind once or twice eleven years ago, that’s all.’

  ‘It not only crossed my mind, I did it a few days ago.’ His words were barely audible but they came across to her with a comprehensive glance of an intensity that shook her a little. Then he added with another flicker of humour, ‘You may be able to turn these things on and off like a tap; I can’t.’

  Ellie’s mouth fell open as his words mirrored what she’d mentally accuse
d him of in relation to Chantal.

  ‘That’s struck a chord?’ he said slowly.

  She closed her mouth with a click.

  ‘As in suspecting…me of it?’ he hazarded.

  She went crimson and he started to laugh softly. ‘Well, well, Ms Madigan,’ he drawled, ‘my reputation if nothing else is at stake here. I think I need to prove you wrong!’

  ‘Reputation—or ego?’

  ‘Could be both,’ he said blandly. ‘There’s only one way to find out—’ He stopped as a flash of lightning right above them lit the night, then a crack of thunder followed.

  Ellie shivered and clutched at him.

  ‘Scared,’ he said softly and folded her closer.

  ‘Mmm…’ She flinched at another flash of lightning. ‘Brett, let’s get inside!’

  ‘OK.’ He picked her up as if she were a feather and carried her into the lounge as the first raindrops fell like bullets. ‘Would you like to check on Simon?’ he suggested as he put her on her feet.

  ‘Yes! Although he doesn’t mind storms.’

  ‘I’ll do it, you sit down.’

  She sank onto the settee and waited until he came back.

  ‘He’s fine,’ he said a few minutes later, sitting down beside her. ‘He’s out like a light. Does he always take Guinness World Records to bed?’ And he took her in his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  She smiled. ‘Always. It’s his great ambition to be in it one day, he just hasn’t decided what for.’ And, as if the cork on the bottle of her emotions had suddenly popped, there were tears in her eyes although she was still smiling. She dashed at them impatiently. ‘Sorry, don’t know what’s got into me.’

  ‘Oh, Ellie,’ he said on a breath, and started to kiss her.

  When he stopped, she was feeling far from tearful. Warm, cherished, drowsy and completely relaxed. And completely at home. In fact she fell asleep in his arms.

  He looked down at her face nestled against his shoulder, and could feel her gentle curves against him, and found himself feeling protective.

  He laid his head back, careful not to disturb her, and examined with some surprise what had transpired this evening. He had actually articulated the thought that had come to him several times down the years—that they get married for Simon’s sake. Little to know that he was now questioning how much of it had to do with Simon, and questioning his difficulty in seeing past marrying her for all the wrong reasons. Although, he reflected with a tightening of his mouth, there was one wrong reason she didn’t even know about.

  But if he was questioning his motives, what of hers?

  He looked down at her sleeping so peacefully in his arms.

  There was no doubt she responded to him physically but would she, could she fall in love again? With him? Because, he acknowledged, unless they got it right, all other considerations aside, they might not benefit Simon at all. In other words, he would have to go out of his way to make Simon’s mother happy, if that was what he wanted to achieve for Simon himself.

  He looked down at Ellie again as she moved slightly but didn’t wake. And there was, of course, his thoughts ran on, his part in Tom King’s son, a boy he was growing more attached to by the day, being fatherless…

  Ellie woke up in her bed the next morning, still fully clothed although her shoes had been removed.

  She sat up suddenly, then it all fell into place. But a glance at her bedside clock saw her scatter bedclothes left, right and centre; she’d slept in and had a bare half-hour to get Simon off to school and herself off to work.

  But Brett was already up and Simon was dressed and ready for school, calmly eating his cereal and fruit as she flew into the kitchen, still buttoning up her blouse.

  She skidded to a stop, eyed the situation and said lamely, ‘Oh.’

  ‘Hi, Mum! You look a bit frazzled.’

  And Brett, whom she had no idea how to face, put a cup of tea down in her place at the table with a mur-mured greeting.

  ‘Thanks.’ She slid into her chair and sipped the tea gratefully. She was never much good for anything until she’d had a cup of tea in the morning. ‘Uh…how come you two are up so bright and early?’

  ‘We’ve been for a jog and a swim,’ Simon said virtuously. ‘You should try it.’

  ‘I…maybe I will one day.’

  Brett sat down. He wore his usual attire for work, moleskins and a checked shirt, and as usual he looked alert and altogether too much man for any woman to have to cope with at that time of the day. ‘Guys,’ he said casually, ‘I have to go away for a few days. Think you’ll manage without me?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Definitely!’

  Simon and Ellie spoke at the same time with Ellie being the most emphatic of the two and Brett flicked her a quizzical little look.

  ‘Where to?’ Simon enquired.

  ‘A board meeting of a company I’m involved with in Sydney. I’d actually forgotten about it until I got a call from someone last night. And while I’m down there I have a few other things to do but I’ll be back on Thursday.’

  Ellie said airily, ‘Not a problem. We’re used to being on our own, aren’t we, kid?’

  Simon saluted her. ‘You gotta admit it’s nice to have a man around the place, though, Mum.’

  ‘Oh, I do—lunch!’ Ellie got up distractedly.

  ‘All taken care of,’ Brett said. ‘And I’ll drop Simon off at school—when you’re ready, mate.’

  ‘I’ll just clean my teeth. Meet you in the car! Bye, Mum!’

  Brett waited until Simon was out of earshot, then he came over to where Ellie was standing looking shell-shocked. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said quietly. ‘I did forget all about it.’

  ‘That’s OK.’

  ‘Is it?’ There was a humorous little glint in his eyes.

  She twisted her hands together. ‘About last night.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Nothing happened—that you weren’t aware of.’

  She bit her lip. ‘I didn’t mean that. But I…got a bit carried away again.’

  ‘No, Ellie, we got carried away again. It’s almost becoming a habit with us.’

  She said bravely, ‘What about the rest of it?’

  ‘Maybe…’ he paused ‘…a few days apart isn’t such a bad idea. To get things into perspective?’

  A flash of amusement made the golden flecks in her eyes more noticeable. ‘You’re suggesting I “think” about it?’

  A cheeky tiddly-pom sounded on the hooter of Brett’s Range Rover, courtesy of Simon.

  ‘I did hesitate to use that word,’ he conceded gravely, ‘in case you felt like screaming. But—why not?’

  Ellie took a breath. ‘All right, but I’m not promising anything,’ she warned.

  ‘Of course you’re not!’ he said bracingly. ‘In the meantime, your son is getting impatient. So, hasta luego, muchacha!’

  Ellie looked surprised, then her lips quivered. ‘And the same to you, muchacho.’

  Unfortunately, the next few days proved to be incredibly busy as not one but two colleagues were laid low by a gastric bug doing the rounds, thereby doubling her work-load. It was a busy week for Simon as well with the school swimming carnival approaching, the end of year school play and the cricket season was under way.

  Therefore he needed an enormous amount—or so it sometimes felt—of transporting to and from the school pool, the school hall, the cricket field, not to mention the making of his costume for the play—he was to be a trooper in a Ned Kelly saga.

  ‘I suppose it could have been worse,’ Ellie muttered to herself one evening. ‘He could have been Ned Kelly—then I’d have had to come up with a tin and metal costume.’

  ‘I tried out for Ned Kelly,’ Simon commented, over-hearing her. ‘But I’m not so sure he was the hero every-one seems to think he was.’

  ‘He was a bush ranger,’ Ellie agreed. ‘But circum-stances, they claim, made him one.’ She put down the jacket she was sewing buttons
onto and concentrated more closely on what Simon had said. ‘Did you knock back being Ned Kelly? Because you’re not sure he was such a hero?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me that!’

  ‘I was afraid you’d accuse me of un-Australian inclinations.’

  Ellie blinked, then started to laugh. ‘You are a char-acter, Simon. To be honest, I’ve never felt quite comfort-able with Ned Kelly myself. So I’m glad you decided to stay on the side of the law.’

  Later, however, on her own and getting ready for bed, Ellie reflected that, for ten, Simon was unusually per-ceptive and enquiring of mind. Which brought her face to face with the issue of his schooling and the short hop to the issue of marrying Brett Spencer.

  She changed into a cotton-knit nightshirt and stretched wearily before she climbed into bed and pulled a pillow into her arms for comfort. But, tired as she was, her imagination took wings. It would be no penance to take Brett into her arms night after night, it would be sheer bliss, she thought, and moved restlessly as her body reacted to her thoughts.

  And she knew enough now to know that it would be no penance for him to make love to her. But forever? she wondered. Or, would it one day turn to duty and, if so, how could she bear that?

  Yet, are there forevers for anyone? she wondered. And what about Chantal Jones? Wasn’t he attracted to her as well?

  The next morning, she had a later start, thanks to her laid-low colleagues being back at work, and the subject of Chantal came up in the form of Dan paying her a visit. A chastened, supremely embarrassed Dan.

  ‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said as she poured him a cup of coffee and told him to sit down. ‘I quite understand.’

  ‘I do, Ellie,’ he insisted. ‘I don’t know what came over me!’

  Ellie studied his earnest expression. ‘Dan,’ she said slowly, ‘I hope you aren’t still hoping that you and I—’

  ‘Ellie—’

  ‘No, listen to me, Dan, I’m not for you and that’s the way things are.’

  ‘I just didn’t want you thinking badly of me. But I guess most men would get in a bit of a flutter over someone like Chantal,’ he said slowly. ‘I mean—it doesn’t really mean anything and, anyway, heaven alone knows who the right guy is for her, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be me.’