him, he made her a tiny allowance that, at best, was parsimonious.
‘We’ll have to see if we can’t find you a suitable husband,’ he, having paid off her one chance of marriage, had the nerve to state.
It was the end of that particular discussion, but less than forty-eight hours later he had again called her into his study and invited her to take a seat.
‘That little problem,’ he began.
‘Problem?’
He gave her an impatient look that she hadn’t caught on to what he was talking about. ‘The husband I said I’d find for you.’
‘I don’t want a husband!’ she’d exclaimed, appalled.
‘Of course you do.’ He overrode her initial protest. ‘You want your inheritance, don’t you?’ he demanded. ‘Ten percent of it represents a considerable amount of money.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘It goes without saying that the marriage will be annulled before the ink is dry on your marriage certificate,’ he had bulldozered on. ‘But that certificate is all I need to take to your grandfather’s solicitors and—’
‘Just a minute,’ she dared to cut in, ‘are you saying that you’ve found a man for me to marry so that I can claim that ten percent?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying.’
She couldn’t believe it and stared at him dumbfounded. ‘Is it Lee?’ she asked out of her confused thoughts.
‘Of course it isn’t him!’ Edward Bradbury snapped.
‘But—but you have found someone…’
‘God Almighty!’ her father cut in, exasperated. But then, obviously counting to ten, ‘Yes, that’s what I’ve just said.’
Her tutors had said she had a quick brain—Phelix wondered where it was when she needed it. ‘You’re saying that as soon as I’ve got that—um—marriage certificate that the solicitors want to see, I can divorce—er—this man?’ She wasn’t going to marry anybody! Besides, her father hated divorce—there was something fishy going on here.
‘You won’t need to divorce him. Since you’ll never live with him, an annulment will suffice.’
In spite of herself, with freedom beckoning, Phelix had to own to feeling a spark of interest. Even perhaps the small stirrings of a little excitement.
‘How old is he?’ she asked, telling herself she was not truly interested, but not relishing the idea of marrying one of her father’s Methuselah-like cronies.
‘I’ve checked him out. He’s twenty-eight.’
That spark of interest became a flicker of flame. Twenty-eight? That was all right. She could marry and claim that ten percent, and… ‘And he, this man, he’s willing to go through a form of marriage with me so that I can claim some of my inheritance?’ she questioned. Even while wanting to get away from the environment she lived in, she discovered that she did not trust her father enough to go into this blindly.
‘That’s what I’ve just said,’ he replied tetchily.
At that stage Phelix had not known just how diabolical and underhand her father could be if the occasion demanded it. But, even so, something just didn’t seem to her to tie up.
She started to use what her teachers had said was her good brain. ‘What is in it for him?’
‘What do you mean, what’s in it for him?’
Phelix had no idea of her potential. All she saw was that she was a dowdy, unemployable newly eighteen-year-old, with little to recommend her. And while it was true that by the sound of it her marriage would be annulled as quickly as made, she could not see any man willingly marrying her just because her father asked him to.
‘Does he work for you?’ she asked, suspecting that some poor man was being pressured in some way to do the deed.
Edward Bradbury’s thin mouth tightened at having his slip of a daughter daring to question him. ‘He and his father have their own scientific electronics company,’ he answered shortly.
She knew she was making her father angry. Indeed knew she should be jumping at this chance to have her own money. But, ‘I don’t get it,’ she persisted.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ her father erupted on a burst of fury. But he managed to control himself to state more calmly, ‘If you must know, I heard a whisper that Nathan Mallory and his father are in a hole, financially. I approached the son and said I’ll bail him out if in return he’ll do this small thing for me.’
Her father was helping out a competitor? She found that hard to believe. On the other hand, as her need for freedom gave her a nudge and then a positive push, what did she know about what went on in big business?
‘You’ve said you’ll give him some money if—’
‘Not give!’ That sounded more like her father. ‘I’ve said that in return for him marrying you—a marriage he will not be stuck with—’ thank you very much ‘—I will that day hand over a substantial cheque, a loan repayable two years hence. Now, anything else you need to know before…?’
By the sound of it she would be doing this Nathan Mallory as much of a favour as he would be doing her. That made her feel a little better. ‘He—er—knows it isn’t permanent?’ She found she needed to qualify. ‘The marriage, I mean. You’re sure he knows…’
Her father did not attempt to spare her feelings but, as harsh as he more normally was, told her forthrightly, ‘I’ve seen a sample of the fashionable beauties he favours—take my word for it, he’ll be at his lawyers annulling your marriage before the first piece of confetti has blown away.’
It had not turned out quite like that. Nor had there been any confetti. In fact it had turned out vastly different from the way Edward Bradbury had had in mind. He had thought they could be married by special licence and it would all be over and done with within a week. But in actual fact they’d had to appear at the register office in person, and give fifteen clear days’ notice of their intent to marry.
So it was that, three weeks before the proposed marriage date, Phelix had presented herself at the register office and met for the first time the man she was to marry. Had she been hoping that her father would be there to ease any awkwardness, then she would have been disappointed. He had an ‘important business meeting.’ Why would he need to be there, for goodness sake!
‘How will I know him?’ she’d asked anxiously.
‘He’ll know you.’
From that she’d gathered that her father had given him a description of her. As it appeared he had, for a tall dark-haired man had been there a minute after her and had come straight over to her. ‘Hello, Phelix,’ he’d said, and she had almost died on the spot. Already, aged twenty-eight, there had been an air of sophistication about him. Oh, my heavens—and she was going to marry him!
‘Hello,’ she’d answered
