The Only Solution(21)

CHAPTER SEVEN



Wendy would never understand how she made it up the steps to the front  door. Her head was spinning so wildly that she could hardly see which  direction to go. She had barely enough presence of mind to thank heaven  that she wasn't holding Rory right then  –  she'd have probably let the  child slide right through her hands.

The etiquette rule she had learned in the past twenty-four hours about  talking where staff might overhear went straight out the window. The  butler held the door for them, and the moment she was inside, Wendy  turned on Mack.

"Me?" she hissed. "You meant you wanted to marry me?"

"I don't see why you're so surprised. You said yourself getting married was an obvious answer."

"That was before I realized you were talking about me!"

"It's the only sensible solution I've found. My mother would not lightly  give that child up to just anyone  –  but even she admits that you've got  a very special place in Rory's heart." He studied her over the baby's  fur-covered head. "Besides, the whole thing was your idea, really."

Wendy's jaw dropped. "What in heaven's name are you talking about?"

"You're the one who first suggested I keep Rory myself, and you've spent  the entire past week looking for ways to stay involved in her life."

"That's why you didn't buy me a round-trip ticket?"

"Not exactly. I thought leaving the arrangements open would be sensible,  since no one knew how Rory would react to all the changes. You must  admit, however, that my solution is neater than yours. It's a whole lot  easier to move you to Chicago than the entire Burgess household to  Phoenix."

Wendy couldn't deny that, and yet it was such a very efficient,  businesslike conclusion that it left a sour taste in her mouth. "I'm not  quite like the upstairs maid," she said finally. "You can't just hire  me to fill a gap in your staff!"

His voice was perfectly level. "Nobody's asking you to be a family retainer, Wendy."

She felt a bit ashamed of herself. Elinor had greeted the news with all  the bubbly enthusiasm any prospective daughter-in-law could wish, far  more than the mild interest she might have felt at the hiring of a mere  employee. Considering the circumstances, it was a better reception than  Wendy would have dared hope for  –  if she'd ever given the possibility a  moment's consideration, which of course she hadn't.

She sighed. She was going around in circles again. This entire idea was  the wackiest thing she'd ever heard of. At least, thank heaven, the rest  of the family hadn't arrived in time to overhear; only Elinor and  Samuel had been riding in the first car, so there was a little time.

As Wendy and Mack came in, two housemen had gone down the steps to help  Elinor out of the car, and they were bringing the wheelchair up the ramp  at the side of the entrance. The other car was already in sight, just  down the driveway. In a couple of minutes, all the Burgesses would be  gathered once more, and once the news was out, sober consideration would  be impossible. The sooner a halt was called to this nonsense, the  better.

"You'll have to tell your parents..." Wendy stopped abruptly. Perhaps  she shouldn't burn bridges till she'd had a chance to look around for  alternate routes. "Tell them that I'm thinking about it." Her voice was  unsteady. "And ask Elinor not to make any announcements till I've  thought. Please, Mack."

"I didn't mean her to hear, you know."

Wendy nodded. "I understand. If I thought you'd done that on purpose..."  She wasn't looking at Mack, but at the bundle in his arms. Rory was  starting to stir and whimper fretfully. "She's too warm, and it's past  her bedtime. I'll take her up to the nursery."                       
       
           



       

"Running away?" Mack asked softly.

She took the baby and unzipped the snowsuit. "Maybe I am. But don't forget you've had a chance to think about this. I haven't."

"What's to think about? It's a partnership, for Rory's sake. That's all."

She had climbed half a dozen steps when Mack called her name, and she  turned to look down at him. He was standing in the curve of the  stairway, one hand on the newel post. "You're a good sport," he said.

She looked down into his eyes for a long moment before she turned and  started up the stairs. Her knees were shaking just a little, and she  knew he stood there silently and watched her till she reached the  upstairs hall.

Flowery words would have rung false; she knew that trying to pretend  this was a romantic match would only make everyone uncomfortable. And  yet  –  was it so silly to wish that there was something more he liked  about her than just being a good sport?

But at least that compliment had come from his heart.

The nursery was dim and warm and quiet, an island of security. Not even  the nurses were in evidence as she extracted Rory from the furry  snowsuit, changed her diaper and dressed her in one of her old familiar  sleepers. The child's eyelids were already heavy, but Wendy rocked her  for a little while anyway and sang to her.

If she accepted Mack's offer... She couldn't bring herself to call it a  proposal, for it was really nothing of the sort. But whatever name they  gave the arrangement was beside the point.

If Wendy agreed to his plan, she could spend the rest of her life with  Rory. She could be the mother she had longed to be  –  and she could do so  without depriving the child of anything else which was her right. Rory  would have her grandparents, her name, her inheritance  –  and the  security of two parents who loved her above all else. Even if her family  wasn't exactly like every other child's, at least it would be close  enough not to need explanation. Mack was absolutely correct; this was  the best solution.

And yet, to marry a man she scarcely knew, to commit herself for a lifetime...

A partnership, he had called it. A partnership for Rory's sake. Hardly a  marriage at all, just a legal maneuver. If Wendy could reason it out  that way, as Mack so obviously had...

It wasn't as if she was in love with anyone. In the past few months,  since Rory had moved into the center of her life, there hadn't been time  to date. She'd hardly had a spare moment to think about the gaps in her  social life  –  except to laugh about the situation once in a while.

And even before that, in the years when she'd had only herself to think  about, she'd never run across a man she couldn't live without. Certainly  there had never been anyone for whom she would have given up Rory, and  she didn't expect there would ever be. It seemed logical that if there  was a perfect man for her, she'd have found him before now. She was  twenty-eight, after all.

So it wasn't as if Mack was asking her to give up anything important by  marrying him. Quite the contrary, really. She'd have the same joys and  benefits as if she'd never made that telephone call  –  without the twin  worries of financial hardship and single-parent exhaustion.

And yet...

She heard the sound of the dinner gong, faint and far away, and  reluctantly she put Rory down in the lace-draped crib, turned on the  intercom which would summon a nurse if the baby cried, and tiptoed to  the door.

One of the nurses was just coming in. "Mrs. Burgess sent me up," she said.

So Wendy could join her new family at dinner; that was obviously what  Elinor was thinking. Wendy hoped that Mack had managed to speak to his  mother before the rest of the family arrived. If he hadn't...

Entering the drawing room was like facing a gauntlet, for all the  Burgesses were already there waiting for her. But there was none of the  curiosity she had half-expected and no questions, only friendly faces.

But Wendy's perceptions seemed suddenly much sharper than usual. Colors  were brighter, noises louder. Everything was larger than life. Earlier  this evening she had been only a guest in this house, watching the  action as if it were a play and she simply a spectator. Now she hovered  at the edge of the curtain, trying to decide whether to take up the cue  she had been given. And tomorrow...would she walk out on the stage, or  leave the theater?                       
       
           



       

Mack stayed at a distance for most of the evening. He was not  deliberately avoiding her, Wendy was certain. But the seating  arrangement at the dining room table placed them almost as far apart as  they could be, and after dinner he was absorbed in a conversation with  John at the far end of the room, while she was talking to Tessa by the  fire. Even without looking around for him, she knew where he was  –  she  seemed to have developed radar.