Vanished

She learned quickly and she worked well, as an assistant to his senior secretary, an Englishwoman who clearly did not approve of Marielle, but was al ways civil. And it came as no surprise to anyone when Malcolm started inviting her, first to quiet lunches, and then to romantic dinners. Eventually, he started taking her to important social events with him, always discreetly suggesting that she buy a new dress for the occasion, at a store where they knew him. It troubled her at first. She didn't want to take advantage of him, didn't want to put herself in an awkward position. Yet, he was always so kind to her, so intelligent, so amusing, so understanding. He never pressed her about what her previous life had been, why she had lived in Europe for six years, or why she had finally returned. They kept their conversations strictly to the present. She was surprised that she was always comfortable with him. He was so polite, and so kind, and so easy to be with. All her earlier resistance to him disappeared, and she was particularly surprised that he never made improper advances. He just seemed to like her company, being seen with a beautiful young woman in the expensive clothes he paid for. She was painfully shy then, and sometimes she still felt a little shaky. But he never seemed to notice it, and when she was with him, she always felt more confident, and surprisingly stronger than she had in a long time. She wasn't her old self anymore, but at least she was a new one she could live with.

With Malcolm, no one asked her anything. People wanted to know who she was, of course, but beyond her name, they never wanted to know where she'd been or why she wore such a serious expression. They were impressed with her because of whom she was with, and how she looked, and sometimes she even found it amusing. She felt so safe with him, he protected her from everything, and that was precisely what he offered her, when he asked her to marry him at Thanksgiving. He offered to protect and take care of her for as long as he lived, which wouldn't be as long as she lived, because he was so much older. He made no pretense of loving her, and yet in some ways, she felt that he did, because he was always so considerate and kind, so thoughtful, and so decent. In fact, she wanted nothing more from him. She couldn't have taken the risk, or been able to stand the pain, if anything went wrong, or something happened. Even the memories of Charles were still exquisitely painful, and the rest was something she still couldn't talk about, even to Malcolm. She had tried to be honest with him, to tell him that there were things in her past that had caused her great pain, but he didn't want to hear it.

“We each have a past, my dear.” He had smiled gently at her, as they dined at the Plaza. “But at twenty-four, I suspect that yours is still a little more wholesome.” He was so tolerant of her, so accepting. She could come to him with her past and her pain and her wounds and find solace there, and protection. It was that that she wanted from him, not his house, or his jewels or his money. He had been married twice before, and she knew from those who talked too much, that his generosity had been legend. But all she wanted from him was a port in the storm, a place to hide for the rest of her life, and that was what he promised. He sensed easily how frightened she was, although even he did not suspect how battered. And all he required of her was that she be willing to bear his children. Neither of his previous wives had, and at forty-nine, it was something he wanted very much, an heir for the Patterson empire. His money had been made in steel, and several generations earlier it had been far less genteel, but by the time Malcolm was born, the name was highly respected. And in his lifetime, Malcolm had made it even more so.

She'd been stunned by his proposal at first, and for a brief moment, she even thought he was joking. They had certainly been out together many times, and he had been unspeakably generous with her, but until then, he had never even kissed her.

“I … I don't know what to say …are you serious?” He smiled coolly at her, and took her hand in his, amused by her astonishment. She still looked like a child to him, and he gently raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers.