Lucy Gordon - A Convenient Wedding

2002

MERYLWINTERS had driven cheerfully and confidently in many of the worlds great cities, but New York was her home town, and something in its air gave her driving an extra edge.

As soon as the banks were open she swung her cheeky red sports car out of Broadway, into Wall Street, screeched to a halt, ignoring a No Parking sign, and jumped out. Tossing the keys to the doorman, she swept on into the head office of the Lomax Grierson Bank. The doorman had just scrambled into the car when a traffic cop approached with an expression of doom. You cant book this car, the doorman protested, aghast. It belongs to Miss Winters.

The traffic cop hastily backed off.

Inside the bank Meryl strode on through the marble halls, knowing that all eyes were on her. Shed been an object of curiosity since she was fifteen and her fathers death had left her fabulously wealthy. Since growing up shed also attracted attention because she was five feet ten inches in stockings, with a pencil-slim frame that any model would have killed for, racehorse legs, huge green eyes and long black hair. Heads turned. Male heads. That was fine by her. Masculine admiration was one of the great pleasures of her life.

But right now nothing was further from her thoughts. She was in a scorching temper and someone was going to die. Looking neither to the right or the left, she continued on up as far as the Chairmans office.

The secretary was new, and didnt recognise her, but she was instinctively in awe of this blazingly self-confident young woman. Er-Mr Rivers is very busy, she ventured. Do you have an appointment?

Why should I need an appointment? Meryl asked in surprise. Hes my godfather, as well as my trustee. Besides-I have something to say to him.

Yes, but you cant- She found herself talking to empty air. Meryl didnt recognise the word cant.

She flung the door open and stopped on the threshold, surveying the man inside. So there you are, she purred.

Lawrence Rivers, a large, greying man with a jowly face, rose from behind his desk and smiled with implacable geniality. Meryl, my dear-what a delightful surprise.

Meryl raised one elegant black eyebrow. Youre surprised that your outrageous letter brought me here? I dont think so. Larry, how often do I have to tell you not to interfere in my private affairs?

And how often do I have to tell you that the disposal of a large sum of money isnt your private affair? he retorted.

Im twenty-four years old and-

And until youre twenty-seven I can prevent you tossing money away as though it was going out of fashion. Your father knew what he was doing when he made that will.

Dad was under your influence or he wouldnt have thought of it, she flung back.

True. Craddock Winters knew everything about oil wells and machinery, and nothing about anything else, including his daughter. You were headstrong at fifteen and you havent grown any better. When you tell me you want to waste ten million dollars on a man of no account like Benedict Steen I know I was right to protect you.

Benedict is not a man of no account-

Well, I know what I think of a man who spends his life making frocks, Larry Rivers declared complacently.

He does not make frocks, Meryl said indignantly. He designs high fashion, and he needs a backer to put him at the very top of the tree. It wouldnt be a waste of money; it would be an astute business investment.

Ten million dollars on a dress shop? Larry demanded. You call that an astute business investment?

Its not a dress shop. Benedict needs proper premises-

Surely he already has somewhere?

Yes, a back room down a side street, she replied. I want to see him in a decent place, in central Manhattan, where he can show a big collection and attract international clients.

Ten million dollars, Larry repeated slowly, trying to get through to her.

He needs to take the collection to Paris, Milan, London and New York, Meryl explained. He needs staff. He needs to advertise in the top fashion magazines. It all costs money.

Ten million dollars!

Meryl shrugged. I like doing things properly.

And when would you get it back?

Who cares about getting it back? Meryl asked expansively.

Aha! Now we have the truth. So much for an astute business investment!

OK, itll be fun. Whats wrong with that? I can afford it, cant I?

You wouldnt be able to afford it for long if I let you be manipulated by a plausible charmer like Benedict Steen. I can see why youre crazy about him. Hes handsome-if you like those kind of flashy looks-

Meryl breathed fire. Larry, Ive told you till Im blue in the face-I am not in love with Benedict. And may I remind you that he has a wife?

A wife hes in the process of divorcing. I dread to awaken one morning and find your engagement announced in the New York Times.

Well, if I married him-not that I want to-at least youd have to hand over my money, Meryl pointed out. In fact, youll have to do that whoever I marry.

Do you have a bridegroom in mind?

No, but anyone will do. Larry, Im warning you, I want my money freed from your shackles. And if I dont get it I swear Ill marry the next bachelor I see. Do I make myself plain?

Certainly my dear. Now let me make myself plain. You will not-repeat not get me to release ten million dollars for this harebrained scheme. And thats my final word on the subject.

Meryl looked at him with smouldering eyes for a long moment, but, reading no relenting in his face, snapped, You havent heard the last of this, before storming from the room.

If Larry had seen Meryl an hour later, standing half-dressed in Benedicts work-room in a basement off Seventh Avenue, while he fitted a dress on her, addressing her occasionally as darling, he would have felt his worst fears confirmed. But Larry wasnt a perceptive man, and he wouldnt have noticed that Benedict touched her with the impersonal hands of a doctor, and his endearments were mechanical. He called every woman darling, especially the two devoted, elderly seam-stresses who made up his garments.

Meryl had been his goddess and benefactor since they were both fourteen, and had met at her expensive boarding school, where hed been the gardeners son, and shed saved him from bullies. Thereafter shed protected him and hed run her forbidden errands into the nearby village.

You might as well talk to a brick wall, she sighed now. I keep telling Larry that Im not in love with you, so why wont he believe me?

Perhaps hes heard of my lady-killing charm? Benedict suggested, turning her slightly. Lift your arm, darling, I want to pin you just here.

Meryl did so, smiling as she watched him work and saw the beautiful creation coming to life. Shed calmed down by now and her sense of fun, never far in abeyance, had returned.

Her mother had died when she was six, after which shed been raised by her father, a self-made oilman, whod prized her and showered her with indulgences while seldom having much time to spend with her. His death had left her fabulously rich but alone in every way that counted.

She knew the value of her looks and her wealth, but she might have grown up ignorant of all other values but for a naturally warm heart. She had a temper, but an impish sense of the absurd was constantly undermining it, and if she possessed one charm greater than her beauty it was her ability to laugh at herself. Nobody knew where that gift came from for her mother had been a gentle melancholy lady, and her father had been too busy making money to laugh. It had grown out of her own nature, and it occurred to nobody that it might be a defence. Why should the beautiful, privileged Meryl Winters need defences?