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'Your best man? But… ' She stared up at him, her face as white as the clothes she was wearing. 'You told me you weren't married,' she murmured faintly. 'Who… ? When did you… ?'
'I'm not, not yet,' Hudson said quietly. 'But I intend to be—very soon. And to you.'
'Me?' There was a distinct buzzing in her ears and she just managed to say, 'I think I need a glass of water or something,' before the room began to swim and dip and her legs folded.
He whisked her up in his arms immediately, carrying her over to a small sofa and giving her a glass of what looked very much like brandy once he had placed her on the cushioned seat. 'Drink it all,' he ordered softly, 'straight down. Bill had the foresight to think you might need it Part of a best man's duties.'
She drank it straight down in spite of the fact she didn't care for brandy, and once the neat alcohol had burnt its way into her system the faintness receded, and as it disappeared reality dawned. 'Hudson?' She opened her eyes from where she had been lying back against the cushions to find him kneeling in front of her, his eyes on a level with hers. 'If this means what I think it means you're crazy, do you know that? I can't possibly—'
'I'm not going to ask you to marry me; the time for asking is finished with,' he said quietly, but with an intentness that was unnerving. I've tried the reasonable approach—hell, I've tried every damn thing—so now I'm going to make you marry me. I love you, Annie, and I know you love me. I've been in touch with some of your friends and they say you've been miserable, desperately miserable, since you came back from Morocco. And you're killing me,' he finished softly.
It wasn't happening; she'd finally flipped, she thought vacantly.
'So now I'm taking the initiative for a change.'
For a change? The ridiculousness of that statement would have brought a smile in any other circumstances.
'I'm not going to ask you what happened in France two years ago, or why you
refused me again in Morocco—not now, not ever, Annie,' he continued steadily. 'I don't care what's stopped you being with me, only in so far as how it affects you, but whatever it is, however terrible, I'm not going to let it ruin both our lives. You love me enough for marriage—it was there in your eyes at the airport and it's there now. If there's one thing my work has taught me it's to forget about words and read the inner soul.' His voice was quiet but terrifyingly firm.
'No, I can't; you don't understand—'
'No, I don't,' he agreed quietly. 'Perhaps I never will, but that's up to you. Through that door—' he pointed to the inter-connecting door and her eyes followed his hand '—are some of my relations and closest friends waiting to see a minister perform a wedding ceremony for us. Apart from Bill no one knows the circumstances and what it's taken to get you here, so if you let me down now—if you walk away—you'll be making me look a fool in front of everyone who matters to me. I'm not going to carry you kicking and screaming into that room.'
He paused, his heart in his eyes as he took in her white face and trembling lips. 'The choice is yours, Annie. But I want you and I intend to have you, and you want me—I know it. Whether it's now, a year from now, ten years from now, I shan't give up. And once we are married it will be all right; I promise you that'
She had never wanted to believe in his confident assurance of his own power and authority so much, but, knowing what she did, it was impossible. 'And if it's not?' she whispered brokenly.
'It will be.' His eyes were intent on hers, the air vibrating with emotion. 'I've never broken a promise yet'
'But if it's not?' she repeated tremulously. 'What then?'
'If after we're married you feel it's not working, I wouldn't hold you against your will,' he said evenly. 'Will that do?'
'You mean that?' Marianne searched his face helplessly.
'You have my word on it'
A deadly silence followed his promise. Marianne's mind was racing, spinning, her face lint-white with two spots of burning colour staining her cheekbones. He had gambled everything on his belief that she loved him, and she did, she did so much. He wasn't wrong, and he knew he wasn't wrong. She should never have let him know and then this wouldn't have happened. She stared at him, seeing the love and desire in his dear face.
She was trapped. If she refused him now it would mean humiliation of the worst kind in front of everyone he cared for—if she went through with the ceremony she would become the match that could light the fire which would consume his career, his good name, everything he stood for. Michael's business partners might never contact her, might never follow through—but the risk was too high. What should she do?
And then, like a little gleam of light at the end of a dark tunnel, it came to her. If she went through with the marriage as Marianne Harding Michael's colleagues might not recognise her for who she really was, certainly for a while. And before they had time to put two and two together, even perhaps before the marriage became public knowledge, she could leave. He had promised her she could; he'd promised. It was all her fuddled brain could think of. 'What about all the documentation?' she asked shakily. 'You can't just get married at the drop of a hat—'
'All taken care of,' he said quickly. 'lama lawyer, remember.'
'And my name?' She took a deep breath but her voice was still trembling so much, she could hardly get the words out 'I want to be called Harding,' she said. 'It must be Harding.'
'The certificate might say something else, but in all other respects it will be Harding if that's what you want. Marianne Harding marrying Hudson de Sance—yes?' His eyes became more darkly intent. 'Why does the name matter, Annie?' he asked softly.
'You said… you said you wouldn't ask me any more questions.' It wasn't fair, but then this wasn't fair either, she thought numbly. And she couldn't think, couldn't decide what was best to do.
'So I did.' He stopped talking, staring at her with smoky grey eyes she could drown in. 'Decision time, then.'
'Hudson, this isn't right.' She tried one more time, but it was useless and she knew it. 'You must see that?'
'No, Annie, I don't. Besides which—' He stopped, a small smile twisting his mouth before he continued, 'You're even dressed for a wedding.' He indicated her white suit with a wave of his hand.
