Strangers May Marry

  Strangers May Marry

  By

  Anne Hampson

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  STRANGERS MAY MARRY

  Laura had practically raised little Mandy, but she had no legal claim to the homeless child. And now the authorities wanted to take Mandy away.

  Paul Penalis could help her to keep Mandy, but his price was marriage. Was the price too high for Laura to pay, or could she find true happiness in a marriage of strangers?

  Other Silhouette Romances by Anne Hampson

  Stardust

  Desire

  Another Eden

  Sweet Second Love

  The Tender Years

  When Love Comes

  Dreamtime

  A Kiss and a Promise

  Man Without Honour

  Devotion

  Spell of the Island

  Fascination

  Realm of the Pagans

  First published in Great Britain 1983 by Hodder & Stoughton Limited

  First hardback edition 1985 by Chivers Press

  Published by arrangement with Hodder & Stoughton Limited

  ISBN 0 85997 782 X

  Copyright © 1982 by Filestone Limited and Silhouette Books,

  a Simon & Schuster Division of Gulf & Western Corporation

  Map by Tony Ferrara

  Chapter One

  Laura Hudson's sapphire-blue eyes were wide and pleading as they stared into the implacable face of the man who wanted to marry her.

  'How can I put her in a home, Phil? I've had her since Mother died and to send her away now would be little short of cruelty.'

  'Laura, darling, you can't expect me to be a father to a child who isn't mine.'

  'But you've always seemed to love her,' she protested, the desperate plea in her voice reflected in her eyes.

  'I like her, certainly, but love… ?' Phil shook his head. 'Love can't be given as easily as that, dear.'

  She turned away, a sigh on her lips, her mind vaguely aware of the peace of South Berkeley Mews being broken by the arrival of a car with a faulty silencer. On all else, though, her mind was anything but vague. On the contrary, it was so clear that she found herself actually living through that momentous time again. She was opening the front door to take in the milk, then she was standing there transfixed, unable to accept that someone had left a baby on her mother's doorstep. She stooped, gently drawing the paper away from the fluffy pink blanket covering the sleeping child.

  'As long as you have taken the father you might as well have his child.'

  The note was fluttering in Laura's hand as she listened to her mother asking if anything was the matter. 'You're taking a long time, love,' added the voice from the kitchen.

  'Someone made us a gift.' Stupid to make a joke about it but Laura felt faintly hysterical. This kind of thing happened to other people, but never to you. Never to anyone you were acquainted with, even.

  'Darling, what is the matter? A gift, you say? So the postman's already been…' The voice trailed to silence as Mrs. Hudson, having come down the narrow lobby to the front door, stood gaping into the carricot which Laura now held in her hands. 'A—a baby.'

  'It says on this little tag that her name's Mandy and she's two weeks old. It gives the date of her birth.' The baby was still sleeping peacefully, thumb in mouth, a mouth that even at this early age seemed to be made for laughter. Laura noted the long dark lashes, the pink cheeks, the overall cleanliness of child and clothes and cot.

  'We'd better come inside,' suggested Mrs. Hudson practically. 'Before the neighbours see anything.'

  'Read this note, Mother.' Laura handed it to her after placing the cot on the well-scrubbed kitchen table.

  'There's a note?' Mrs. Hudson took it from her daughter, and as she watched Laura saw her eyes narrow with perception, saw the colour leave her face, saw her thrust a hand into her greying hair as she drew a long sigh that came from the very heart of her. 'Irene,' she murmured briefly, lowering the paper to stare at her daughter over it.

  'We knew that Irene ran off with a married man, but we didn't think that a child was coming, did we?'

  'He not only left his wife but he left her pregnant. This little mite must have been well on the way when that fiend enticed your sister to run off with him to Greece!'

  'Laura, dear, you're miles away.' The quiet voice of the man who had proposed marriage brought Laura from her reverie and she swung round to see him still sitting there on the green velvet couch, a glass of brandy in his hand. He patted the cushion by his side and asked her to sit down. She shook her head and stayed where she was.

  'I was remembering how it all happened.' She looked at him in silence for a moment, wondering if he would be interested, seeing that he had heard it all before. But she wanted to talk, and she supposed the reason was that she cherished the hope that he would soften in his resolve not to accept Mandy into the home which he hoped to make with Laura. She saw him smile, took it for an invitation and began to speak. 'Mother felt so terribly guilty—you know what her generation's like; they take the blame for what their children do.'

  'Mine's the same, although we've never had anything like that happen in the family. Very respectable, we are.' There was nothing smug about Phil's declaration, on the contrary, he seemed almost to be adding a hint of deprecation as he continued, 'Very fortunate not to have a skeleton in one's cupboard.'

  'Irene was always flighty but we never expected her to come home and say she was going off to Greece with a married man. Mother was heartbroken and said it was a blessing that Father could never know what was happening. It wasn't like Mother to say a thing like that; she adored Father and even then she had not really got over his death.'

  'Why did they go to Greece? I seem to remember your telling me but I've forgotten.'

  'The man had found himself a job there. He'd lived in Greece when he was young and obviously liked it enough to want to return. I suppose it was a good opportunity to lose himself so as not to have to pay his wife money.'

  'And she was left with this baby.' Phil shook his head and it was clear that, to him, desertion of that kind was an unforgivable sin. 'He must have known of her condition.'

  'Of course. It was only a short time after he and my sister had run off that Mandy was dumped on our doorstep.'

  'What a shock it must have been.'

  'It was a greater shock when Mother insisted on keeping her,' returned Laura with grim recollection. 'Just think, Mother, a widow, living on her own, deciding she must take the child and bring her up. I think I told you that inside the cot was another short note to the effect that the mother of Mandy was intending to commit suicide.'

  Phil nodded his head. 'But you never found out whether she did or not?' Laura merely shook her head and Phil went on, 'You were already living away from home, weren't you? And you'd just gone home for the weekend?'

  'Yes. I'd been offered this post and both Mother and I agreed that I ought to take it, not only for my own sake but also because it made it possible for me to make Mother's life more comfortable. I could substantially supplement her pension.' Again Laura turned away, remembering her own uncertainty at the time the post was offered. Her mother was a widow; her elder daughter was at home at the time but little or no company for her mother because she was out every night and in addition would often go away for the weekend. However, the financial aspect became the most important one in the end and Laura was persuaded by her mother to accept the post which necessitate
d her living in London. It was not that Mrs. Hudson was thinking of herself where the money was concerned— on the contrary, she at first refused to accept money from Laura. Mrs. Hudson was thinking entirely of Laura's own personal gain and prestige, and it was only after the coming of Mandy that she had accepted any appreciable allowance from her daughter. For by then Irene had gone and Mrs. Hudson was living on her pension, plus a small income from her late husband's firm.

  'I still cannot think what made your mother take on the responsibility of bringing up a child at her age. She ought to have looked to the future and visualised a situation such has arisen now.'

  'One doesn't, Phil, when swayed by emotion. You do not seem to understand: Mother was accepting the responsibility because of a guilt complex. Her daughter had taken away the child's father, which caused its mother to take this step. She must have been desperate, for no mother parts with her child as easily as that. Mandy had been well cared for, but obviously the burden was too much for the mother. Added to that was bound to be a deep and abiding bitterness, and it was probably this which forced the woman to act as she did.' Laura turned now and picked up the martini which she had previously poured for herself.

  'It was strange, but neither Mother nor I had thought much about the wife who had been deserted; she was nebulous. We were sorry for her in a vague kind of way but that was all. When we saw that baby all was changed. The whole detestable business was brought into sharp focus because we could now see the wife as a real person, pregnant by a man who had tired of her, who cared nothing for her situation, or for the child that was soon to come into the world. I know this sort of thing happens all the time, but when it strikes you personally it takes on a deeper significance. Phil, I often detest the times in which we live!' Laura drank deeply—so unlike her—but in fact she felt she needed something stronger than the martini and she glanced at Phil's glass which was now almost empty.

  'I can understand how you feel, Laura, but also you must try to understand me. I can't possibly accept a ready-made family—'

  'One little girl, Phil, that is all!' Desperation caused Laura's voice to take on a high-pitched note. She was madly in love with Phil and nothing had thrilled her more than that moment—was it only five minutes ago?—when he had taken her in his arms and asked her to marry him. Her joy was indescribable… but then had come the question, spoken softly against her cheek.

  'What will you do with Mandy, darling? I suppose the only thing will be for you to get in touch with the authorities, won't it?' And Phil had gone on to add that if she wanted him to help in any way, then she must not hesitate to ask him.

  'I know it's only one little girl,' she heard him saying as she walked across the room towards the cocktail cabinet. 'But surely you don't want us to begin like that—with a child to harass us. I want you to myself for at least a year, love.' She said nothing, and after a small pause he added, 'You were foolish to take her, Laura. When your mother died two years ago you should have let Mandy go. She was only two and a half at the time and would soon have forgotten your mother and fallen into the routine of whatever life was planned for her by the authorities. She would either have been fostered out or adopted, and by now she'd have been settled.'

  'She is settled,' returned Laura chokingly. 'She loves me and I love her.'

  'More than you love me?' enquired Phil gently, and their eyes met across the room, holding for eternal moments before Laura opened the cabinet and poured herself a drink. She stood there, moving the glass to hear the ice tinkle against the sides. Her heart was heavy as lead, her throat dry, her nerves upset. She had never expected to be faced with a situation like this, and yet, reviewing it now, she wondered why she had never looked to the time when she would meet someone who would want to marry her. David, the young man who had driven her home on that fateful night after Laura had received the phone call from a neighbour to say her mother was ill, had been no more than a friend. He just happened to have called on Laura that evening, and as she was so upset by the news of her mother's illness, he had insisted on driving her even though she knew she was quite capable of driving her own car. Mrs. Hudson had had a fatal heart attack and was in fact dead when Laura arrived home. Mandy was in bed asleep… Laura had not hesitated to take the child…

  Her thoughts were broken by Phil's soft voice reminding her of the question he had just asked. She stared at him mistily from above the rim of her glass.

  'I love you with all my heart,' she readily confessed. 'And I want to be your wife… but, Phil, how can I desert little Mandy?' Tears spiked her lashes but she would not let them fall. It wasn't fair to cry, to attempt to soften Phil by making him feel guilty.

  'She'll get over it in no time at all.'

  Laura shook her head. She knew Mandy, knew without any doubt at all that the wrench would leave a permanent scar on the child's mind. Laura shuddered at the very idea, at the picture she was conjuring up in her mind. Mandy taken away by some unfeeling employee of the authority. The tears and the pleadings— God, it was impossible!

  'I can't do it, Phil,' said Laura with a sigh that came from the depths of her heart. 'If you won't have Mandy then… then… I c-can't marry you.'

  Silence, long and fraught with angry emotion. When at last Phil spoke Laura heard harshness in his voice for the very first time.

  'Do you realise that if it hadn't been for the fact that you had a well-paid job and an understanding boss, you'd never have been in a position to take her, to bring her to this luxury home and pay someone to care for her while you're at work? Your boss'll let you off if Teresa happens not to be able to come in. But have you thought what would have happened if you hadn't had the means to keep Mandy?'

  'The question doesn't arise, Phil. I did have the means to keep her, and I still have.'

  'And us?'

  'I've just said, if you won't take Mandy then—then I can't marry you.' Steady her gaze but her heart was breaking; her dreams were shattered.

  'Laura, for goodness sake, see sense!' Rising, Phil came towards her, to stand there, staring into her pale face, his own dark with angry impatience. She looked at him, remembering their first meeting five months ago when he had taken over the management of the main suppliers to the firm of interior designers for which Laura worked as chief assistant to Douglas Hendrick, recently acclaimed as the most gifted home designer in Britain. From the very moment of their introduction, Laura and Phil were drawn towards one another, and to her delight he seemed enchanted with the little girl whom she had chosen to care for.

  Until she met Phil, Laura had not even thought about marriage; her job was so satisfying, her life smoothly balanced between her home life in the tastefully converted stable, and her work, which involved travel and the meeting of all kinds of interesting people. She had felt sometimes that Mandy was missing something, both the company of other children, and a father. But whenever possible Laura would take her out, to the zoo or for a trip on the Thames, and twice a year they would go for a week at the seaside where, weather permitting, Laura would spend hours on the beach with Mandy, building sand castles or playing with a big, brightly coloured ball. For Laura it had been a happy life, one of supreme contentment.

  But now… How unfair of fate to have put her in a position like this. She loved Mandy but she loved Phil more… She wanted desperately to be his wife, his lover…

  'You do realise that the whole business was illegal from the start?' Phil's half-angry voice cut even yet again into her thoughts. 'When you found that baby your first act should have been to notify the police.'

  'I'm fully aware of it.'

  'But you don't care that you've broken the law—are still breaking it?'

  'The human element's far more important to me than the cold necessities of legal requirements. I do not think I would be jailed if it all came to light.' There was an element of cool dignity about her now, a defence against the hard core of practicalities. 'It would have been inhuman to have Mandy taken away when Mother died. Mother gave her l
ove in profusion; she gave her the feeling of security that is every child's birthright. How could I send her away? She knew me and loved me because I visited Mother almost every weekend. It was the only logical thing to do—for me to take her.' Laura put the glass to her lips and Phil moved away to the other side of the room. He was angry—no, that was mild. He was furious although able to control his temper, for which Laura greatly admired him. She asked softly, 'Phil, surely you yourself would feel a pang if I sent her away?'

  'I admit it. However, I refuse to accept the responsibility for another man's child. Think of the expense for one thing. She's a highly intelligent child so will probably stay at school until she's seventeen or eighteen, then go on to university. Laura, you can't possibly expect me to foot bills for her when I shall have children of my own to provide for.'

  'I can keep my job.' She wondered why she was still fighting when she knew that it was a battle already lost.

  'Not when we start a family,' Phil said. 'No, it wouldn't work.'

  'Because you don't want it to.'

  'If you like—yes,' he almost snapped. 'I'm being very firm about this, Laura, and believe me it's for your own good.'

  'For my own good?' Laura's voice was bitter.

  Phil moved impatiently and then, as the idea suddenly came to him he said swiftly, 'Her place is with her father. Why don't you try to get in touch with him? After all, you've no right to keep Mandy from him, and if he should ever turn up he could take her anyway.' Eagerness in Phil's voice now. He believed he had solved the problem. As for Laura, she had been brought face to face with a possibility hitherto not even visualised—that of Mandy's father turning up and wanting to claim her. What then would be Laura's position? Without doubt she would be in trouble with the law. And in any case, there must soon come a day when it would be necessary to produce Mandy's birth certificate… which Laura did not have. She did not even know the child's surname, because Irene had not mentioned even the given name of the man she ran away with.