From Waif To His Wife

CHAPTER SIX

AT FIVE o’clock that afternoon, Maisie came back from her whale-watching cruise in a much better frame of mind than when she’d set out.

Hard not to be, she reasoned, on a glorious day when she’d got to within metres of three humpback whales-a mother, a day-old calf and an escort-for the islands of Vava’u were right in the path of the annual whale migration north from the Antarctic.

She did have one regret. The stronger swimmers of the party had actually snorkelled in the crystal-clear Pacific waters with the giants but she’d, at the last minute, changed her mind about it although she was a good swimmer. But it had been made clear to everyone that they did so at their own risk.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she told the girl guide, ‘so maybe I shouldn’t.’

‘If they suddenly start to breach and you have to get away fast it can be really strenuous, so no, I wouldn’t,’ the girl agreed. ‘It’s also not that easy to get back on the boat in a hurry. But you could probably snorkel later at the Swallow Caves.’

So with that Maisie had had to be content, and it had still been a unique experience.

Once the swimmers were back on board the boat, their three whales had put on a magnificent display of breaching, propelling themselves backwards out of the water in an arc, and flapping the water with their tails. The calf had copied everything its mother and escort did and was especially endearing, looking so small against the other two.

Maisie decided it was an emotional experience that actually brought a lump to her throat, and she discovered that her fellow cruisers, all from the resort, felt the same.

She didn’t realise amidst all the clicking cameras as everyone photographed the whales that one of the cameras was trained on her as much as the whales.

She failed to notice that one of the guests, a man in his late twenties who’d actually been in the dining room the night before but had left before she and Rafe had, was studying her curiously from time to time and he continued to do so throughout the day.

She had no idea that he’d heard her tell the guide she was pregnant.

After that they’d cruised around the islands, stopped on a perfect white beach for lunch and finally snorkelled in the fabulous Swallow Caves.

Their boat dropped them off on the Tongan’s jetty and she was still exhilarated as she walked to the room. She even stopped to look around affectionately at the Tree House built on stilts over the beach and used for private dinners, at the red-gold leaves of the cotton-wood trees that lined the beach, the Sand Bar with its beach-sand floor, the distinctive shape of the palm thatch roof of the dining room.

But then it hit her that she was the only one alone, all the others were couples, and she didn’t even have anyone to describe her wonderful day to.

She closed herself sadly into her room, actually dabbing at a couple of stupid tears, to find Rafe stretched out on his bed, but awake with his hands crossed behind his head.

He sat up as she dropped her holdall in her surprise.

‘You!’ she gasped.

He sat up and frowned. ‘Yes, me. What’s wrong?’

‘N-nothing,’ she stammered. ‘I mean, I’m all sandy and salty, some of it must have got in my eyes, and I really need a shower, but-that’s all.’

He got up and came over to her. ‘You looked as if you were crying.’ He shrugged as he inspected her closely. ‘How was your day?’

Relief flooded Maisie and her face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. ‘Absolutely marvellous. I didn’t actually swim with the whales-’

‘Why not? Oh,’ he added as Maisie looked down at her stomach, ‘of course. Well, at least you’re acquiring some wisdom along those lines.’

‘Yes and thanks so much for organising it-it was still wonderful! But,’ she paused, ‘I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’

‘Change of plans,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you have a quick shower? Are you particularly starving?’

‘No, I had a big lunch on the boat so I can wait for dinner, but-’

‘I’ll wait outside,’ he interrupted.

Maisie showered and changed into khaki shorts and a loose primrose blouse. She tied her hair back and slid her sandals on.

Rafe got up as she let herself out onto the veranda. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he murmured.

She looked surprised then shrugged and fell into step beside him.

They walked to the main entrance, a set of gates with a fence climbing the hillside on one side and a rock wall groyne extending into the sea on the other. At the end of the groyne was a little thatched hut with wooden seats.

As they approached the gates, a man got out of a car parked on the other side and opened the gate-and Maisie suddenly stopped dead.

Rafe stopped, too, and watched her intently as all colour left her face and her mouth worked. Then she blinked and closed her eyes experimentally and, as her lashes fluttered up, she said in a trembling voice, ‘R-rafe? I mean…’

‘No,’ the man beside her side said on a harsh breath. ‘It’s my cousin, Tim Dixon.’ He took hold. ‘Maisie, here’s what I suggest. That you and Tim discuss things in the hut. I’ll leave you alone. But I’ve booked the Tree House for dinner and you and I can-talk.’

He turned on his heel and walked away.

Some time later Maisie stood on the beach on her own, staring blindly out to sea but with the sensation that the scales had fallen from her eyes.

Tim Dixon did bear quite a resemblance to his cousin and he’d admitted to impersonating Rafe. As he’d done so, she’d glimpsed a biting hostility towards Rafe.

But why? she’d asked.

He’d shrugged and told her that Rafe had a lot more than he deserved, a lot that was rightly his, Tim Dixon’s.

He wouldn’t bore her with too many details, he’d gone on to say but, he’d added with a charming smile, the irony of the fact she was one girl who apparently had never heard of Rafe Sanderson hadn’t failed to strike him.

Maisie had been struck dumb.

Then he’d sobered and told her some of his background. He’d also said he had nothing to offer her, he was on his uppers with a string of debts around his neck, that was why he was in Tonga working as a diving instructor, but he would acknowledge he was the baby’s father.

Throughout it all, along with his golden good looks-his hair was bleached fairer by the sun and was now longer, and a pair of board shorts and a T-shirt showed off his tan as well as his physique-she’d got bewildering flashes of the man who had swept her off her feet.

But as he spoke, even sometimes with the wry humour, the charm and the whimsy she’d loved, the knowledge had grown in her heart that Tim Dixon was like a rogue leopard, beautiful, mesmerising, but a loner with only his best interests at heart.

She hadn’t said much at all.

She hadn’t given him a piece of her mind or called him any of the hard names he deserved.

She’d agreed that there was no point in pursuing a paternity suit, but at that point he’d really stunned her when he told her Rafe would make some settlement on her anyway.

But you hate him, she’d cried then.

He’d agreed coolly.

That was when she’d stumbled to her feet and walked away from him.

But he’d had the nerve to call out, ‘So it’s settled, Maisie?’

‘Yes. Just go away!’

That was why she stood on the beach for so long with her sandals in her hand, viewing everything that had happened to her through new eyes.

Then she turned to go back to the room, but one of the waitresses called out to her as she passed the dining room, to tell her Rafe was waiting for her in the Tree House and she was just about to serve the first course.

It was a still, perfect night and the candle flames in the thatched Tree House hardly wavered as the water lapped softly on the beach below.

Rafe had changed into jeans and a blue shirt and he rose as she appeared. After taking one look at her face, he poured her a glass of wine.

‘No,’ she murmured.

‘Yes.’ He put the glass in her hand. ‘One glass is not going to hurt you. I’m sorry I did it that way but I wanted you to be sure I wasn’t covering anything up.’

‘I don’t think however you did it would have made any difference.’ She sniffed and licked some salty tears from her lips. Then she looked across at him bravely. ‘How did you work it out?’

He looked away briefly. ‘Right from the start Tim was at the back of my mind. We have been mistaken for each other occasionally. He does bear me a grudge.’

‘But you didn’t tell me-’

‘Maisie,’ he interrupted, ‘I didn’t know for sure it was Tim, but if it was, I had no way of knowing you weren’t in cahoots with him.’

She digested this with widening eyes, but in light of the revelations she’d so recently been party to, she had to concede he had a point.

‘How did you get him to agree to acknowledge the baby?’

‘Don’t ask.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘So?’

‘He said-’ She stopped as she heard the waitress climbing the stairs. The first course she brought was asparagus soup.

‘He said?’ Rafe prompted as she left them alone.

‘He said that he had good cause to bear you a grudge. That you’d inherited what he should have and he’d had to grow up in your shadow and he’d had to-grin and bear it.’

Rafe picked up his spoon. ‘It had nothing to do with me. Tim’s father was my mother’s brother. In the natural course of events he would have inherited the Dixon empire. But he fell out with his father, my grandfather-he was caught red-handed siphoning off profits, and worse-and disinherited. Most if it went to my mother as the oldest child, and all the others were girls. Eat something, Maisie.’

She crumbled the roll on her plate and tasted the asparagus soup; it was delicious but she had no appetite, although she forced herself to take a few spoonfuls.

‘Then,’ Rafe went on, ‘Tim’s father, my uncle, died in a parachuting accident when Tim was about six. My mother took pity on Tim, and his mother, and she brought them into the family; my grandfather had died by then. She paid for Tim’s schooling and university and she set up a trust fund for him and his mother. And he and I did spend a lot of time together at Karoo as we grew up.’

‘Did you realise how much he resented you?’ Maisie asked.

Rafe looked out over the darkened water for a long time. ‘He kept it to himself until my mother died. We were in our mid-twenties. Then he dropped a bombshell-that he intended to sue me for what he claimed was his rightful inheritance.’

Maisie put her spoon down and pushed her soup away and took a sip of wine.

‘It was settled out of court,’ Rafe went on. ‘Not that we felt he had any leg to stand on, particularly since it was my father and a lot of Sanderson money that had saved the Dixon empire from collapse because of drought and low wool prices by then-something Tim wasn’t aware of.’

Rafe finished his soup and reached for his wine. He swirled his glass and looked down at the pale gold depths before looking at Maisie. ‘But we decided to make Tim a settlement on the condition that he made no more claims. He agreed. Sad to say,’ Rafe paused, ‘it looks as if he’s gone through that, as well as the trust.’

Tears brimmed, causing Maisie’s green eyes to sparkle in the candlelight. ‘It wouldn’t-it wouldn’t have been easy for him, though.’

Rafe studied her and thought his own thoughts. Was she still a little in love with his cousin? His mouth tightened briefly.

‘Does that mean you want him back?’ he asked abruptly.

‘Oh, no.’ Maisie shook her head.

‘It sounds as if you’re feeling sorry for him, all the same,’ he pointed out.

‘No.’ Maisie cupped her face and propped her elbows on the table. What had she meant? she wondered. It fell into place unexpectedly. She wanted some mitigating circumstances for the father of her baby. Some way not to think of him with utter bitterness and contempt because he was going to be a part of her baby, whether she liked it or not. But how to explain that?

She sighed. ‘No. It’s over.’

‘Tim Dixon,’ Rafe said slowly, ‘can be irresistible, until you really get to know him.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

They were on their next course, fish of the day which happened to be delectable fresh-caught wahoo, when Maisie started to feel a little less traumatised and able to think of other things.

‘So I guess this is the end of the line for us,’ she murmured.

‘Maisie.’ He paused.

She allowed her gaze to roam over him briefly, taking in the angles and shadows of his face, as he appeared to debate internally with himself. Not only was it a good-looking face, but it could also be alight with intelligence, breathtakingly attractive when he laughed and frustratingly enigmatic in repose as you wondered how really to reach this man.

Plus there were the lean, strong lines of his broad shoulders beneath his shirt, his long, lovely hands-and she felt an awful pang in her breast because there might not be many more occasions for her to feast her eyes on Rafe Sanderson.

If she wasn’t for him, and she knew she could never be-how could he ever forget, how could she ever forget she was carrying another man’s child, and not only that, but also whose child it was. He touched something within her that, she now realised, Tim Dixon had never touched.

What a time and what a way to find it out, she thought.

‘Maisie,’ he said as if he’d rethought what he’d been going to say moments ago, ‘where will you live? You said something about selling your parents’ house.’

Surprise caused her to blink, and, she was to realise later, caused her to answer incautiously, ‘I’d love to be able to stay on in the house. I don’t feel so lonely there now as I first did and it brings back-’ she tipped her head ‘-memories I cherish. But it’s not possible, so I’ll probably rent a place once it’s sold, where I can give piano lessons.’

He carefully dissected a piece of fish and removed a bone. ‘You will be able to stay on. I’ll make it possible.’

Maisie put down her knife and fork as the implication sank in and she remembered Tim Dixon’s words that had so incensed her…

‘No, I don’t want anyone’s charity, let alone yours,’ she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Let alone mine?’

‘I-I…’ She couldn’t go on.

‘Why particularly not mine, Maisie?’

She read the determination in his eyes to get an answer.

‘B-because-because I need to get away from all this. I need to be able to put it all behind me and make a fresh start. I-’

‘Who said anything to the contrary?’ he queried.

Her throat worked. ‘It’s dreadfully hard to explain, but I just would rather-do it my way. I mean, thank you, I appreciate your thoughtfulness-’

‘Maisie, your baby is a Dixon whether you like it or not,’ he interrupted impatiently.

‘What-what does that mean?’ she stammered.

‘We-apart from Tim,’ he said drily, ‘do not abandon our seed to an unknown fate.’

She fired up suddenly. ‘It’s not an unknown fate!’

He tipped a hand. ‘Perhaps I could have phrased that a little differently. But surely, for a girl in your position, it’s got to be welcome news that you’ll have some back-up?’

She stared at him. Yes, it would be, in other circumstances, she had to admit. But if it meant it was going to bring her into frequent contact with this man, who was going to be hard enough to forget anyway, how much more difficult was it going to make life for her?

‘I can’t think straight,’ she confessed. ‘Look, the best thing is probably for me to go home tomorrow and just-relax and let it all settle.’

He smiled slightly. ‘Good thinking actually. You can come with me.’

‘Oh, I have an open-return ticket-’

‘Maisie Wallis,’ he said dangerously, ‘don’t argue with me.’

She subsided. ‘Well, thank you, I guess I won’t have to change planes and sit around airports-and I’m starting to feel exhausted.’

‘You’re starting to look it. Go to bed,’ he recommended. ‘I’ll make some excuse about dessert.’

But the thought of sharing a room with him suddenly hit her and he must have seen the confusion in her eyes.

He said, ‘The room next door was vacated this afternoon. I’ve booked it.’

‘But-how’s that going to look? Or have you told them we’re not married?’

He grimaced. ‘I thought you’d be relieved. No, I haven’t told them-if the task was up to you, how would you go about it?’ He eyed her.

Maisie opened and closed her mouth several times but nothing came out.

‘Precisely,’ he murmured.

‘Yes, but…’

‘I’ve told them I need to work tonight and I don’t want to disturb you. They quite understood.’

‘All right,’ she said after a moment.

Rafe sat by himself for a while in the Tree House and pondered the events of the day.

Such as Tim Dixon coolly admitting that, since he sometimes did get mistaken for his all-powerful cousin-it had actually happened at the wedding where he’d first laid eyes on Mairead Wallis-he might as well put it to good use as a means to attract women.

Tim Dixon, looking amused, as he recounted the irony of Maisie never having heard the name. For that matter the irony of discovering she was not nearly as sophisticated as she looked.

The it was just one of those unfortunate things attitude he’d displayed when he’d gone on to explain he hadn’t set out to get Maisie pregnant. It had been an oversight, she’d been innocent enough to be deceived, and anyway, how many virgins fell pregnant the first time?

And finally the bitter antagonism that had intensified when Tim Dixon had gone on to explain that he hadn’t meant to walk away so soon either-not that he’d ever had any plans to marry Maisie-but several creditors had chosen to make flight his only option over a jail sentence at that time, and Tonga had seemed to be the answer.

It had occurred to Rafe to remind his embittered cousin, two years his junior, of the sizeable settlement he’d received in lieu of suing for a lost cause. But he knew it was too late to change anything.

Tim had grown up in his shadow and, despite the generosity of Rafe’s mother, Tim’s own mother had never forgiven the Dixon family. Rafe hadn’t realised how much of it had rubbed off on Tim until it was too late.

It had occurred to him that Tim could so easily have gone the other way-he had so much going for him. Or had there been a bad seed, just like his father, in his cousin right from the start?

If so, they were always destined to be enemies.

Then he’d thought of Maisie and that was when all sympathy for Tim Dixon had fled, and that was when he’d laid down the law in extremely hard, unpalatable terms, and they’d parted bitterer enemies than ever before.

So what was puzzling him now? Maisie’s reaction, which had almost seemed to show that she sided with Tim Dixon?

Did it make sense?

Or did it mean she was still in love with Tim? Did that explain why she’d followed him to Tonga? Could she still be in love with Tim even if she could see no future with him now? What would be so surprising about that, though? he thought cynically. Many women fell for charming rogues.

But was there something going on he didn’t understand?

His mind ranged back to the previous evening and the pleasure she’d quite glowingly shown in his company-not to mention, he thought with some irony, how refreshing he found her company. But that didn’t fit in with a girl who had had her heart broken by his cousin.

So, was she secretly hedging her bets?

Still trying to bind him in silken, subtle strands so she would at least have a stand-in, substitute father for her baby?

Or was he tilting at windmills? Looking for more reasons to scotch the desire he’d felt for a girl bearing another man’s baby, not to mention his cousin Tim’s?

James drove them to the airport the following morning, very early.

And he took it upon himself to act the tour guide, since Maisie’s last trip had been in the dark, as he pointed many things out to her. The vanilla farm, the taro and breadfruit plantations and of course the banana and coconut trees that were everywhere.

She saw the king’s residence in Neiafu and the magnificent Port of Refuge Harbour with many yachts at anchor.

They passed a few churches, one with its bell ringing as the congregation streamed in, and it made her sad to think she’d never got to hear a Tongan choir.

She said suddenly to James, ‘What does ofa atu mean? I’ve heard it a couple of times. Goodbye?’

James shook his head. ‘In Tongan it means I love you. Goodbye is alu a and the response is nofo a.’

That too, Maisie thought. I love you and goodbye…

All the things he pointed out helped to take her mind off a lonely, restless night filled with thoughts of Rafe then a poignant dream of them walking down the aisle together as man and wife that saw her wake up with tears on her cheeks.

Then wondering if she’d ever be so open to the influence of any other man, so alive to his looks and his aura; made to feel so fluttery in the stomach in his presence. Unable to cure herself of the conviction that to be in his arms and to be made love to by him would be like sheer heaven, and she’d always be lacking as a women if it never happened for her.

Yes, it had happened to her before and proved to be a terribly painful trap for the unwary, but the events of the day had taught her one thing. She’d been dazzled by Tim Dixon at a time when she was at a very low ebb. But she’d fallen in love with his cousin, who, apart from one kiss, had made no moves to attract her at all.

Nor could you compare the kind of man Tim Dixon had turned out to be, with Rafe Sanderson…

Yes, it had been a painful night, but one good thing it brought was that she fell asleep on the flight home and didn’t wake until they landed.

Then there were three employees of Rafe’s waiting to greet him, all, by the looks of it, desperate to get their hands on him with urgent business matters. One of them was his secretary, Jack Huston.

It was Jack who put her in a prepaid taxi after she’d said a brief goodbye to Rafe and he’d promised to be in touch.

Truth to tell, she was mentally and emotionally exhausted and she wasn’t at all sure she mightn’t burst into tears as he said goodbye, so it had been a relief to get away.

She assured herself she’d be in much better command of herself when she met him again, for the last time.

She assured herself she would have come up with some way to put Rafe Sanderson right out of her life.

He came to see her a week later.

She was prepared, she’d made coffee and she was going to serve it on the veranda, but before she did that she gave him a brief tour of the house at his request and explained what her parents had had in mind for it.

When they got to the veranda he looked out over the view, and he told her he could understand why she didn’t want to leave.

She agreed that the view was certainly something but she added, as she poured the coffee, that she was quite resigned to leaving now.

Rafe studied her, the loose Fair Isle jumper she wore over loose trousers, her hair rather rigidly confined and the shadows under her eyes. He frowned suddenly. She wasn’t glowing at the moment and you couldn’t tell she was pregnant either-had her appetite deserted her and, if so, why?

‘I’m afraid you are going to have to move but you don’t have to lose this house, Maisie.’

She sat down opposite him. ‘No, Rafe, I’m afraid I can’t accept-’

‘You,’ he overrode her, ‘are about to be splashed over the tabloids as my pregnant mistress who masqueraded as my wife in Tonga.’

She gasped and her eyes were aghast as she shot up then sank back into her chair. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘But-how?’

‘Someone on Vava’u recognised me. They have the dates that Mr and Mrs Rafe Sanderson were staying there. They have pictures of us that link us inextricably to the place. They even have one of the staff confirming that it had given them great joy to welcome Mr and Mrs Sanderson.’

‘I knew we should have…’ She couldn’t go on.

‘Yes,’ he eyed her grimly, ‘hindsight is all very well but it’s not going to help us-more particularly you-now.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I was advised of this story doing the rounds by a friend in the media. I’ve pulled a few strings so it could take whoever this is a little time to find a buyer for their story but it’s only a delaying tactic. Someone won’t be able to resist getting their hands on it. That’s not all, however.’

‘What more could there be?’ she cried.

His lips twisted. ‘You have a short memory, Maisie. This person has done other research and come up with the rumour that we were aboard the Mary-Lue alone in…intimate circumstances.’

‘Melissa,’ she said. ‘Your terrible friend, Melissa!’ she accused.

He shrugged. ‘We’re actually related-she’s a Dixon a couple of times removed. I guess that’s why I put up with her.’

‘Not another one-you really have an appalling family, Rafe Sanderson!’

‘Some of ’em,’ he agreed laconically. ‘But there’s only one way to counteract this.’

‘What’s that?’ Maisie asked dazedly.

‘You need to marry me.’