Margaret Way - It Happened in Sydney

“Good Lord, it’s David!” Marcus was saying delightedly as he stood up to attract his nephew’s attention. “David!” he called. “He has Emma Courtney with him, Sonya. Lovely girl, Emma. She’s nuts about him, as the saying goes. I should know. I’m nuts about you.” He laughed, colour in his lean cheeks. “I’ll introduce you.”

It was the very last thing Sonya wanted. She sat back, desperate to achieve some semblance of calm.

David Wainwright will marry a young woman much like the one he’s out with tonight.

Get that through your head.

His hand at Emma’s elbow, Holt led the way to his uncle’s table. The shock of seeing her again was as painful, as piercing as an arrow shot straight to the heart.

You fool!

His warning voice kicked in, determined on giving him hell. She was wearing the standard little black dress but her radiant beauty and her colouring made the dress look as if it were worth every last cent of a million dollars. Marcus was beaming with pride. It was obvious he would do anything for her. Lay down his life if need be. Not only was she far and away the most beautiful woman in the room, she was highly intelligent. If she was after position and security, a half-share of Marcus’s money, it was as good as in her hand. From a florist shop to chatelaine of one of the most beautiful houses in a city full of beautiful houses. Money beyond her wildest dreams would be at her disposal. For all he knew the wedding date had already been set.

He had to bring all his concentration to bear just on saying hello.

Marcus gripped his shoulder. “What a surprise to see you, David. How are you, Emma? You look lovely as usual.” Marcus moved a pace to kiss Emma’s cheek. She was a true redhead with lovely bright blue eyes.

“Sonya.” Holt acknowledged her with a slight bow. She gave him a cool smile.

Still playing the aristocrat for all she was worth. It was a sterling performance. He had to give her that. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Emma Courtney. Emma, Sonya Erickson.” He made the introduction.

Emma rated a real smile. It lit up Sonya’s beautiful face like the sun sparkling off ice. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

“You too, Sonya. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Emma was looking at Sonya with open admiration.

“I take it David is the one giving the information?” Sonya kept the smile on her face.

“All good things.” Emma gave a tiny triangular smile. It could have meant she’d had a few words with others, like Paula Rowlands, whom she no doubt knew.

A pleasantry or two more and they moved off. Emma glanced back and gave a little friendly wave.

“Lovely girl!” Marcus enthused, sitting down again. “I’m so glad David isn’t serious about Paula. You have to be careful with those Rowlands women. Though I have to say Paula can be extremely nice when the mood takes her. Emma had better look out. Paula has always been wildly jealous of anyone who even looked sideways at David.”

Tell me about it.

“Then she has a battle on her hands. Every woman in the room looked up the moment he walked in.”

“You too?” Marcus shot her a quick intent look.

“Why not? I was enjoying it,” she lied. “I had my own entry tracked.”

“You’ll have to get used to it, dearest girl.” He relaxed. “It might be a nice idea to meet up with them after dinner. Go on somewhere. What do you think?”

No way could she handle that. “No nightclubs, Marcus,” she said, pretending a modicum of regret. “I should be a good girl and go home. Early start at the markets tomorrow.”

“Of course, my dear.” His hand covered hers across the table. “Though I hope you’ll find the time to pop into the house with me for ten minutes. I have something to show you. Jensen will drive you home, of course.”

“Ten minutes, Marcus. No more.”

“Splendid!” He raised his glass to her.

Whatever Marcus had in mind she thought she could deal with it.

Her arrangements, she noticed with satisfaction, were still amazingly fresh. There was such a glow about Marcus. Unusual colour in his cheeks. For a very dignified, contained man, it was only too clear he was excited. Indeed he had come alive with exhilaration. He was a great collector. Perhaps he had acquired a new painting. Possibly for her? He knew she was passionate about good art.

“Sit down, my dear,” he invited, pulling out an armchair covered in blue silk damask. “I had the most wonderful dream the other night. I dreamt you said yes to my proposal of marriage. Next day I went out and bought this.” Slowly he withdrew from his inner breast pocket a small jewellery box. “Wasn’t it Freud who said we should place great faith in our powerful dreams?” he asked, not waiting for her answer. “Sonya, dearest girl, I want you to wear this as a token of my everlasting love. Give me your hand, my dear. I’m sure it will be a perfect fit.”

Was there any tactful way of offering a rebuff? No, was the short answer. Only for the life of her she couldn’t seem to utter a word. Her mouth and throat had gone so dry she wanted to leap up to go and find a glass of water.

“There!” Marcus said with great satisfaction. “What did I tell you? Perfect. Don’t you think so?”

Sonya was astounded. The diamonds were like chunks of Arctic ice. She stood up, feeling as though her heart had left her chest. “Marcus, is this what I think it is?”

“My dearest girl, you know it’s an engagement ring,” he said with loving indulgence. “I’m very serious about wanting to marry you. If I hesitate some other lucky man will sweep you up. I can’t have that. You are my great chance at happiness.”

Suddenly she wasn’t at all sure he could withstand the shock of an abrupt refusal. He was so happy, even if he had rather jumped the gun. But then he would have lived a life when he could have just about anything he ever wanted.

“Were diamonds a mistake?” he asked, seeing her confusion. “You will have the emeralds, my dear,” he assured her. “But I thought diamond for the ring. They’re the finest money can buy.”

Distress flashed into her green eyes. “No, diamonds aren’t the mistake, Marcus,” she said slowly, reasoning she had best get this over with. “It’s—” She broke off in horror as Marcus bent over, clutching his chest. “Marcus, what is it?” She flew up from her chair, to put her arms around him. She held him tight. “You’re in pain.”

“Nothing, nothing.” Marcus tried to shrug off whatever ailed him. Only the high colour in his cheeks had turned to grey.

Sonya made her decision. “I’m going to call the ambulance. We need to get you to a hospital.”

Marcus wasn’t having that. “No, no, Sonya. I forbid it,” he gasped. “A bit of chest pain. Not severe. Most probably heartburn. I don’t normally eat dessert. It was too rich.”

She wasn’t convinced. “It’s important you be checked out as soon as possible,” she insisted, truly panicked and afraid for him. “Every moment counts. Let me call the ambulance.”

“No,” he said emphatically. “I’m feeling better already. I have a touch of anaemia, you know. Not enough iron.”

“What about your doctor?” she persisted, not liking this one bit. “I could ring him. It’s not late. I can’t leave it like this, Marcus. Are you on any medication? I’ll get you a glass of water.”

By sheer will power Marcus pulled himself together. He sank back on the sofa. “You could try David. It’s only discomfort, dear. Don’t please panic. It’s not a suspected heart attack, if that’s what’s worrying you. I know the symptoms. It’s all the excitement, I suppose.”