Elizabeth had proposed to Rhys the day of her meeting with Julius Badrutt. After the banker had left, Elizabeth had carefully brushed her hair, walked into Rhy’s office, taken a deep breath and said, “Rhys—would you marry me?”
She had seen the look of surprise on his face, and before he could speak, she had gone hurriedly on, trying to sound efficient and cool. “It would be a purely business arrangement. The banks are willing to extend our loans if you take over as president of Roffe and Sons. The only way you can do that”—to Elizabeth’s horror her voice had cracked—“is to marry a member of the family, and I—I seem to be the only one available.”
She felt her face flush. She could not look at him.
“It wouldn’t be a real marriage, of course,” Elizabeth had said, “in the sense that—I mean—you’d be free to—to come and go as you pleased.”
He had watched her, not helping her. Elizabeth wished he would say something. Anything.
“Rhys—”
“Sorry. You took me by surprise.” He had smiled. “It isn’t every day a man gets proposed to by a beautiful girl.”
He was smiling, trying to get out of this without hurting her feelings. I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but—
“You have a deal,” Rhys said.
And Elizabeth had suddenly felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her. She had not realized until that moment how important this had been. She had bought time now to learn who the enemy was. Together she and Rhys could stop all the terrible things that had been happening. There was one thing she had to make clear to him.
“You will be president of the company,” she had said, “but the voting control of the stock will remain in my hands.”
Rhys had frowned. “If I’m running the company—”
“You will be,” Elizabeth had assured him.
“But the controlling stock—”
“Stays in my name. I want to make sure that it can’t be sold.”
“I see.”
She could sense his disapproval. She had wanted to tell him that she had reached a decision. She had decided that the company should go public, that the members of the board should be able to sell their shares. With Rhys as president, Elizabeth would no longer have any fears about strangers coming in and taking over. Rhys would be strong enough to handle them. But Elizabeth could not let that happen until she found out who was trying to destroy the company. She had wanted desperately to tell Rhys all these things, but she knew that now was not the time, and so all she said was “Other than that, you’ll have complete control.”
Rhys had stood there, silently studying her for what seemed a long time. When he spoke, he said, “When would you like to get married?”
“As soon as possible.”
Except for Anna and Walther, who was home, ill, they all came to Zurich for the wedding. Alec and Vivian, Hélène and Charles, Simonetta and Ivo. They seemed delighted for Elizabeth, and their pleasure made her feel like a fraud. She had not made a marriage, she had made a business deal.
Alec hugged her and said, “You know I wish you everything wonderful.”
“I know, Alec. Thank you.”
Ivo waxed ecstatic. “Carissima, tanti auguri e figli maschi. ‘To find riches is a beggar’s dream, but to find love is the dream of kings.’”
Elizabeth smiled. “Who said that?”
“I did,” Ivo declared. “I hope Rhys appreciates what a lucky man he is.”
“I keep telling him,” she said lightly.
Hélène took Elizabeth aside. “You are full of surprises, ma chère. I had no idea that you and Rhys were interested in each other.”
“It happened suddenly.”
Hélène studied her with cool, calculating eyes. “Yes. I’m sure it did.” And she walked away.
After the ceremony there was a wedding reception at the Baur-au-Lac. On the surface it was gay and festive, but Elizabeth felt the undercurrents. There was something evil in the room, a malediction, but she could not tell from whom it was coming. All she knew was that someone in the room hated her. She could feel it, deep down inside her, yet when she looked around, all she saw were smiles and friendly faces. Charles raising his glass in a toast to her…Elizabeth had received a report on the laboratory explosion. The explosive was manufactured by your factory outside Paris.