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The Millionaire's Marriage Demand(9)

By:Sandra Field


"All summer?" Charles croaked.

Travis's voice sharpened. "What's the matter?"

"You're spending the whole summer in Portland?"

"That's right." Trying to ignore the fact that his father looked aghast,  Travis gave him a crooked smile. "Maybe you'll invite me out to the  island in a couple of weeks, when we'll have more time to talk."

Charles took a big gulp of coffee. "I want to talk to you now, Travis.  Or at least right after breakfast. Corinne, would you pass the  marmalade, please?"

Travis poured a large glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. He had no  idea what was going on. But at least Charles wanted to talk to him. That  was a hopeful sign.

Why hadn't Julie arrived for breakfast? Had she already left? The launch  had still been at the dock when he'd walked back from the lighthouse,  and there'd been no sign of Oliver. How would he feel if he never saw  her again?

Then footsteps tapped across the oak floor and Julie walked through the  door. She was wearing her flowered sundress with scarlet flat-heeled  sandals; her hair was damp from the shower. Travis's fingers tightened  around his glass. What had happened out at the lighthouse had been no  aberration; he wanted her now just as much as then.

With old-fashioned courtesy Charles got to his feet. "Good morning, Julie. Did you sleep well?"

"I woke up early," she said truthfully, "so I went out to the  lighthouse." She smiled at Charles. "I can see why Travis loves  Manatuck-it's so beautiful out there."                       
       
           



       

Travis swallowed a smile. Charles said manfully, "I'm glad you're having  a good time. I hope you'll join me in a game of tennis later this  morning?"

There was a fractional hesitation; Travis held his breath. Then Julie  said, "That'd be lovely. Although I haven't played for quite a while."

She was staying. Travis turned back to the sideboard, staring at a  platter of sliced fruit as if he'd never seen melons and strawberries  before. So the die was cast. For the next twenty-four hours the two of  them would be together on the island.

Julie started asking questions about the history of Manatuck, a subject  dear to Charles's heart. Travis helped himself to bacon and eggs, sat  down and began eating. The legal complications of purchasing the island,  and the logistical complications of erecting a castle on it, happily  occupied Charles for the next half hour. Then he pushed back his chair.  "Finished, Travis?" he asked. "Why don't we go to the library? Julie,  I'll meet you at the courts in about an hour. The rackets are kept in  the club house."

"I'll look forward to it," Julie said.

After refilling his coffee cup, Travis followed Charles to the library.  His father closed the door, then took up a position in front of the  hearth. He looked extremely ill at ease. Was he about to discuss changes  in his will, changes that possibly disinherited his elder son?  Financially Travis couldn't care less; emotionally he cared quite a lot.

He leaned against a leather wing chair. Nothing in the library had  changed. The same prints on the walls, the same array of leatherbound  and doubtless unread classics. He himself had discovered Kipling here,  C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, all the heroes who had peopled his childhood. He  said casually, "What's on your mind, Dad?"

Charles said pompously, "You must understand that your arrival last night was a shock to us all."

"I hope the shock wasn't too unpleasant."

"I possibly said things I shouldn't have, on the patio after dinner," Charles labored on. "I apologize for that."

It was more than Travis had expected. He said warmly, more than willing to meet his father half way, "You're forgiven."

Staring fixedly at the door behind his son's back, Charles said, "A  reconciliation is, of course, what we all want. You're right, the past  is the past and should be forgotten. Bygones be bygones. The hatchet  buried."

Charles had always favored clichés. "I'm very willing to do that,"  Travis said, trying to disguise the fact that he was inwardly puzzled.  This was all too easy. Had Charles really had such a huge change of  heart overnight?

"That disgraceful media attack, the ring …  water under the bridge."

"I've often regretted that I went to the papers. It was the action of an  adolescent, that's all I can say. I wouldn't handle it that way now."

"Yes, yes," Charles said impatiently.

But Travis hadn't finished. His voice rough with the intensity of his  feelings, he said, "As for the ring, I swear I didn't take it."

"Never mind the ring, I don't really miss it anymore. So everything's  forgiven and forgotten and now you can leave Portland right away. No  reason to hang around. You've done what you set out to do."

Looking rather pleased with himself, Charles bounced up and down on the  soles of his handmade Italian loafers. "Leave Portland?" Travis  repeated.

"Well yes. Of course. Why would you stay in a little backwater town like  Portland?" Charles said bluffly. "I'm sure you've got bigger fish to  fry. I've read about you over the years, some of your successes in  establishing new hospitals and revitalizing old ones in all those third  world countries. Very important work, Travis. Vital. I'm sure you're  anxious to get back to it. I can understand you might have thought it  would take all summer to soften my attitude, and that's why you allowed  two months." He gave a hearty laugh. "I've taken you by surprise,  haven't I? You thought I'd be much more adamant."
                       
       
           



       
"I did, yes." Thinking furiously, Travis said, "I'm very glad we're  having this conversation, and I look forward to many more. But I can't  leave Portland right away-I made a commitment to Mark and his family."

"You can't leave? Of course you can."

Julie was also living in Portland, at least temporarily, Julie and he  had some unfinished business. Travis said easily, "I'll be gone by the  first of September."

"Get someone else to fill in for your friend!"

"What's the rush, Dad? If you've really forgiven me, why wouldn't you want to spend some time with me?"

"Your stepmother and I are going to be exceptionally busy this summer.  We may even go away for a month or more …  perhaps you could come to  Boston for Christmas."

"Perhaps I could." Although he'd long hated the luxurious mansion in  Back Bay. "Let's play it by ear …  there's been a big gap in our  relationship, and we can't patch it up overnight."

"So you'll leave Portland?" Charles said eagerly.

"I've explained why I can't do that right away."

Charles pursed his lips. "I'm asking a favor of you, Travis. Surely  after all these years, you can do one small thing for me. Find a  substitute-there must be lots of doctors who'd be happy to spend the  rest of the summer in Maine."

"If I understood why you want me to leave, I might be more open to doing so."

With vicious emphasis, Charles said, "Why was your favorite word as a  little boy. You could never accept anything at face value, you always  had to be poking and prying for reasons. You haven't changed, Travis,  you're just the same as you always were."

So the forgiveness was only skin deep. Travis said carefully, "I'll be  talking to Mark next week, I'll see what he says. It's the best I can  do."

"It's little enough," Charles huffed. "And now I must go and change if  I'm to meet Julie." He gave his son a sharp nod. "Take my advice-call  Mark as soon as possible."

He marched past Travis and shut the door behind him with unnecessary  force. Travis gazed after him unseeingly. What was going on? And what  was he missing? Had that been Charles's inept attempt at a genuine  reconciliation? Or had it been fake from the start?

But why?

Which was indeed one of his favorite words, he thought wryly. Why would Charles want him to leave Portland tomorrow?

And why was Julie the main reason he didn't want to?





CHAPTER SIX





At seven-thirty that evening, Travis straightened his tie in the  bathroom minor, adjusted his tuxedo jacket and knew he couldn't delay  going downstairs any longer. He'd faced guerillas, epidemics, droughts  and floods the last few years. And now he was scared of a crowd of his  father's friends?

Put it any way you like, he wasn't looking forward to the evening. Too  many people, too many of whom would be less than delighted to see him,  coupled with the necessity to behave as though there really had been a  reconciliation between himself and his father.