The Great Baby Caper (28 page)

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A few days later they left Denver on an afternoon flight, connecting to a Transatlantic carrier in New York. They
arrived at Heathrow early the next morning, just as a misty dawn was creeping
over the landscape. Exhausted by more than sixteen hours in transit, Courtney
slept in the cab as they sped to Mark’s flat, and her arrival there also passed
in a blur.

Hours later she awakened in a soft
bed to a blinding stream of sunshine and the smell of warm tea. She realized
her clothing had been removed and she now wore one of Mark’s oversize T-shirts
emblazoned with “St. Katherine Racket Club.” That and only her panties.

Blushing slightly, she looked up
to see Mark hovering over her, smiling, and extending a steaming cup. He
smelled delicious and appeared clean-shaven as well as smartly dressed in fresh
slacks and a sports shirt.

“Hello,” she murmured.

He leaned over and kissed her
brow. “Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

“Afternoon? What time is it?”

“Three p.m.”

“Wow. I slept that long?”

“Just as well you slept off your
jet lag.” He extended the cup to her. “I figured the smell of hot tea might
awaken you.”

She sat up, took the cup, and
slowly sipped the strong, sweet tea. “Ummm, thanks, this is good.” She gestured
about. “So this is your flat.”

“Be it ever so humble.”

Courtney glanced around at the
large, airy loft with its high ceilings crisscrossed with industrial pipe,
polished plank floors, handsome brick walls, contemporary furnishings, and huge
sunny windows. Off to one side, a handsome open kitchen gleamed with chopping
board islands and stainless steel appliances. Beyond, an open door revealed a
large modern bathroom; Courtney vaguely recalled stumbling into it shortly
after their arrival.

“Very nice,” she pronounced. “Did
you say this building used to house a plumbing supply warehouse—I mean, before
the area became trendy?”

“So you remember what I said on
our arrival?” he teased. “Seems you were just about dead to the world when I
carried you in this morning.”

“Well, I do vaguely remember the loft,
the bathroom . . .” She plucked at her T-shirt. “But I don’t remember you
undressing me.”

“I do.” He leaned over, tenderly
kissed her mouth, and spoke huskily. “A more distinct pleasure I’ve never
known.”

“Rascal.” Setting down her cup on
the end table, she rose, blushing again as she watched Mark draw his gaze over
her long bare legs. “So you like the sight of a fat woman.”

He drew her closer, wrapping his
arms around her, and gently stroking her rounded belly. “A beautiful woman,
plump with my child. I’m so glad you came here with me, darling.”

“Me, too.” Impulsively kissing his
jaw, she got up and strolled to the window, looking out at an array of yachts
gleaming in the Thames. “What a grand view.”

“A big reason I bought this loft.”

She gazed around again. “It’s
large, but obviously made for a bachelor.”

He curled an arm around her waist.
“It could be partitioned off. A bedroom, a nursery. Plus the flat next door is
up for sale. I could buy it, we could expand . . .” Wickedly he leaned over and
kissed her tummy. “Much as you’ve already done so beautifully, my love.”

As one of Mark’s hands boldly
stroked her bare thigh, and he buried his face between her breasts, Courtney
was hard-pressed not to moan aloud. “So you have it all planned out? You spirit
me away here, hoping I’ll agree to remain?”

He straightened, regarding her
solemnly. “Not at all. Nothing has been that well organized since the day I met
you. I’m just offering suggestions.”

She smiled, realizing she was
being hard on him. “Okay, so you are.”

He grinned. “Are you up to going
out for a bit? That is before we go over to Beth’s place for dinner tonight?”

“Sure. I’m so glad I’ll get to
meet everyone.”

“The girls and their families are
excited, too.” He glanced at his watch. “If we hurry, we can get in a bit of
sightseeing before we’re due there at seven.”

She nodded happily. “I can’t wait
to explore London. I came here before on my senior trip, but that’s been a good
ten years ago.”

He picked up her suitcase from the
foot of the bed and lifted it onto the mattress. “So get dressed, my lady.”

She wrinkled her nose at him.
“What are you going to do?”

He plopped himself down in a
nearby leather chair. “I’m going to watch you.”

And he did just that.

***

They went out in Mark’s car,
stopping first for lunch at a charming restaurant near the Victoria embankment.
By the time they visited a few of Mark’s favorite shops in Soho and a gallery
or two off Piccadilly, it was time to get ready for dinner with his sisters.

Mark’s oldest sister, Beth, and
her family lived in an elegant old townhouse in Belgravia. When Courtney and
Mark arrived, both Beth, a statuesque brunette who greatly resembled Mark, and
her younger sister Merry, a pretty woman with light brown hair, greeted
Courtney with warm hugs and congratulations. In the formal parlor, Courtney was
introduced to the rest of their families: Beth’s husband, Peter Penright, and
their children, seven-year-old Peter and five-year-old William; Merry’s
husband, Paul Withers, and their two children, three-year-old Madison and
two-year-old Dillon.

Although all were polite and
friendly toward her, at once Courtney noticed the difference between Mark’s kin
and her own rambunctious clan. Everyone here was more subdued, particularly the
children; all four were neatly groomed and impeccably mannered; even the
youngest, Dillon, was shy and retiring, and Courtney could not coax a smile out
of him. Before dinner was served, all four were whisked upstairs by a uniformed
nanny.

In the formal dining room, a maid
served up a delicious dinner that included clam chowder, vegetables
vinaigrette, and salmon with shrimp sauce. Conversation at the table was
divided between the sexes. Merry and Beth asked Courtney countless polite
questions about her background, family, and especially the expected baby, while
offering all sorts of motherly advice. The three men, better acquainted, hashed
out familiar issues: Paul, an estate agent, complained because the council tax
was being raised in the posh district where he sold many of his properties;
Peter, a solicitor specializing in international law, discussed issues facing
the European Monetary Union. By the time dessert was served, the men had
shifted to an animated discussion of the latest test cricket match between England and Australia.

That’s when Beth waved a hand and
protested. “Gentlemen, please! Not cricket again. Merry and I are going to
whisk Courtney off to the parlor, before she becomes so bored that she tosses
the lot of you into the Thames.”

The men chuckled, and Peter said
contritely, “Are we boring you, Courtney? If so, I apologize.”

“Please, don’t,” she replied with
a smile. “Actually the sports talk is making me feel at home. You see, every
time my clan gathers in Denver, my dad and brothers-in-law are busy discussing
the Denver Broncos. Here, evidently it’s cricket.”

As the men chuckled, Merry spoke
up. “Well, Beth and I are stealing Courtney away, anyway. We must have an
opportunity to grill her in private.”

“Don’t you two girls get carried
away, now,” scolded Paul.

“Yes, dear, let me know if you
need help,” added Mark.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Courtney
assured him.

The women took their tea and
adjourned to the parlor. Courtney sat on the settee with Beth, while Merry
occupied a wing chair flanking them. Her expression solemn, Merry picked up a
handsome leather photo album off the coffee table and extended it toward
Courtney with a smile. “Actually, Courtney, I had an ulterior motive in
bringing you in here. I thought you might want to see this. It belongs to
Mark.”

Courtney took the album. “Really,
it’s Mark’s?”

Beth nodded. “There’s a story
behind that. After Mum and Dad lost their lives, I went through all their old
photos and had the best ones reproduced, so I could make an album for each of
the three children. This one is Mark’s.”

“How thoughtful of you.” Courtney
frowned. “But why doesn’t he have it?”

Beth touched Courtney’s hand and
smiled compassionately. “He told me to keep it for him until he had a family of
his own. I don’t mean to pry into yours and his affairs, Courtney, but Mark has
mentioned to me and Merry that you two haven’t decided as yet where you’re
going to live. Selfishly of course, we would like you to choose the U.K. But regardless of that, Mark does have a family now, doesn’t he? So I want the two of you
to have the album now.”

Courtney was so touched, she felt
tears burning. “Beth, that’s so sweet of you. But I still kind of wonder why
Mark had you keep it all this time.”

“I also think Mark took our folks’
deaths really hard, even more so than Beth and I,” put in Merry.

“Oh, yes,” agreed Beth. “Being the
oldest, Mark took the responsibilities so much to heart. Even with Grandfather
Bootle around to oversee things, Mark was constantly fretting over me and
Merry. Were we at the right schools, were we happy? On top of that, he had his
own education to think of, and Dad’s businesses. He turned from a carefree boy
to a solemn man overnight. He was locked up in his shell for so many years—a
true introvert.”

“Really?” asked Courtney,
surprised at these insights. “He’s always seemed so friendly and outgoing to
me, with such a sense of fun.”

“But that was after you came into
his life,” explained Merry. “Beth and I have remarked so many times since then
that we can’t believe the change in Mark. Almost like a dead man springing back
to life.”

“I . . .” Again Courtney felt
choked up with emotion, as well as guilty for the tough time she’d given Mark.
“I had no idea.”

“He loves you so, Courtney,” added
Beth. “He can’t stop talking about you, ever, or the baby. We’re so thrilled to
have you in the family.”

“I—I’m truly honored to be a
member.” Blinking at a tear, Courtney managed to smile brightly at both women.
Then she flipped open the album and began perusing its pages. Otherwise, she
would have burst out crying.

***

Courtney took the album with them
when they left. Mark definitely noticed the volume but made no comment as he
drove them back to his loft. Instead he flashed Courtney a shy smile and asked,
“What did you think of my family?”

“Oh, they’re wonderful,” she declared.
“Your sisters seemed reserved at first, but I soon discovered they’re very warm
in their way.”

“Good. I’m glad they passed
muster.”

“Mark, this wasn’t a contest.”

“They certainly all loved you.”

“Then I’m glad
I
passed
muster.”

Inside Mark’s loft, Courtney laid
the photo album on the bed then went off to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
When she emerged, Mark, wearing only his trousers, stood staring at the album.
He’d turned off the lights except for the lamps on the nightstands, but she
could tell his expression was very tense.

“Mark, I want you to show me the
album,” she said.

He glanced up at her. “Why did you
bring it back with us?”

“Beth gave it to me, to take home
with us.” She smiled. “Because you have a family now.”

For a moment he stood silent, a
muscle working in his jaw. At last he said, “Courtney, I haven’t claimed that
album before because—well I haven’t been able to face . . .”

“All the memories of family life,
and pictures of your parents?” she asked gently.

He nodded.

She went over and hugged him.
“Mark, you mustn’t be afraid to feel things.”

He stroked her cheek with his
fingertips. “Mustn’t I, Courtney?”

She took his hand. “Come on. Show
me.”

They sat on the bed together, and
reluctantly Mark opened the album. After turning a page or two, he laughed.
“Hey, there’s my baby picture.”

Courtney stared at the adorable,
blue-eyed baby with his round face and curly dark hair. “Yes, I know.”

“You know?”

“Well, I had a peek at the album
with Merry and Beth,” she admitted. As he would have protested, she added, “But
I still want
you
to show it to me.”

He gave a groan, but continued
turning the pages. “Ah, there I am at three, on my trike outside our house in Mayfair.” He hesitated a moment. “That’s my mom, in the background talking to our
neighbor.” He flipped to another page. “There I am riding my bike at Hampstead
Heath, and here I am out on the lake in the sailboat with my dad. Here are Beth
and me, showering Merry with confetti at her birthday party. There’s Mother and
Dad at their fifteenth wedding anniversary . . .” His voice faded, and he
closed the album. “Courtney, this is hard.”

Gently she took his hand, raised
it to her mouth and kissed it. “Why? Because you retreated into yourself when
your parents died? That’s what Beth and Merry told me.”

His troubled gaze met hers. “I
suppose that’s true.”

“What changed, Mark?”

Abruptly he smiled. “You,
darling.”

“Tell me more about that, Mark.
About why seeing me in those videos brought you halfway across the world to
meet me.”

He sighed and glanced away
uneasily. “Courtney, I think it will sound very strange.”

“No, it won’t. I want to know.”

He gazed back at her, and this
time she could see the love in his eyes. “When I first saw you, darling, there
was so much life and vitality in you, so much heart. I couldn’t stop looking at
you. I watched those videos endlessly, until I’d memorized your every word,
your every look, your smile. You might say I became obsessed. I told myself,
that’s the woman I want to share my life with.” He drew a shuddering breath. “I
know it sounds weird now, almost like I became a stalker or something.”