‘I believe,’ he said meditatively, ‘that a lot of people get married because they think they’ve fallen in love and then find it’s not so. I believe it’s very hard to differentiate between a physical attraction and that elusive thing they call love. I know that marriage is a dicey proposition at the best of times and that a cool, sane, level-headed approach could have a lot to recommend it.’
Roz shivered. ‘I think that means you don’t believe in love,’ she whispered. ‘And perhaps being so very rich hasn’t helped, but I don’t think it’s a—well, a very good way to be.’
He released her hand and sat forward. ‘Roz,’ he said levelly, ‘when I was twenty I fell madly in love with a beautiful girl called Louise. We got married. Twelve months later we got divorced and she remarried an older, very rich man. It was possibly the best thing that could have happened. We … thought we loved each other passionately, but in fact we just couldn’t live together. I,’ he paused, ‘wasn’t in the position then to give her much; she wasn’t the kind of girl you could bury in a welter of overwork and all sorts of petty economies. She …’ He stopped and stared through the willow fronds. ‘Yes, I am cynical about love,’ he said eventually. ‘It wouldn’t be fair to tell you any otherwise. Not, though, because I still fancy I’m in love with Louise. But because of it and what’s happened since. I think it might be a will-o’-the-wisp that people pursue endlessly and don’t understand is only a fickle sort of thing, whereas an honest commitment of a practical nature … serves one better.’
Roz opened her mouth, then shut it.
‘For example,’ Adam went on, ‘and I apologise for being rather brutally honest on both counts—what I’ve said and what I’m about to say—Michael Howard is not for you, Roz. He’s a kid, a nice kid probably, and I can’t quarrel with his taste, but he’s …’ he shrugged, ‘like I was. Dazzled.’
‘No,’ she breathed, ‘don’t say that!’
He turned to her with suddenly narrowed eyes. ‘Has he had any other girlfriends?’
‘No—well, no, but …’ She managed to get her hand free.
‘So you’re the first for him and he’s the first for you?’
‘I … yes, but … you sound just like his father,’ Roz said bitterly.
He took her hand again. ‘If I were his father I’d be very concerned,’ he said, and added, ‘also. Even though it was such a brief meeting yesterday, Roz, I could see the tensions barely beneath the surface.’
She turned her face to his. ‘What tensions?’
‘A father contemplating his son rushing into a marriage with his childhood sweetheart because circumstances have made her so vulnerable. A St George and the Dragon kind of situation, which is notoriously appealing to young men who are often more romantic at heart than they get credit for.’
Roz blinked and stilled at the echo his words evoked in her mind because, after all, hadn’t she wondered the same thing?
‘Was that all you saw?’ she queried huskily after a moment.
Adam shrugged. ‘His mother was valiantly trying to make the best of it, but I think that even fond as she is of you, she has her doubts too.’
‘Everyone,’ Roz said slowly, ‘is more concerned that Mike’s too young. I mean, you can’t believe I’m too young to be married or you wouldn’t be asking me, would you?’
He was silent.
‘And the other thing is, we barely know each other!’
He smiled. ‘Sometimes it’s how you’ve got to know someone, not how long you’ve known them, that counts. I feel I know you rather well, as a matter of fact. I thought the same might have happened for you, but perhaps the last thing on earth you could imagine is us… being married?’
Roz closed her eyes and tried to banish all her girlish fancies which chose to rise up and taunt her then most treacherously. And she had to think that if it wasn’t all so impossible it was like a dream coming true—would have been, she amended, years ago. And she couldn’t help the shaky laugh that rose to her lips, although she bit it off.
‘What does that mean?’ Adam asked. ‘Yes or no? If you find me in the same league as Dracula, I’ll go away now.’
‘No, no, it’s not that,’ she said agitatedly. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. I’m …’ She got up and away a few paces, then turned to him. ‘Thank you, because I think you mean well, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.’