Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

Kate burst into tears. “Please don’t do this to me, Mother.”

Margaret took her in her arms. “It’s for your own good, Kate. You’ll be a young woman soon. You’ll be ready for marriage. No man is going to marry a girl who talks and dresses and behaves the way you do.”

“That’s not true,” Kate sniffled. “David doesn’t mind.”

“What does David have to do with this?”

“We’re going to be married.”

Margaret sighed. “I’ll have Mrs. Talley pack your things.”

 

 

There were half a dozen good English boarding schools for young girls. Margaret decided that Cheltenham, in Gloucestershire, was best suited for Kate. It was a school noted for its rigid discipline. It was set on acres of land surrounded by high battlements and, according to its charter, was founded for the daughters of noblemen and gentlemen. David did business with the husband of the headmistress, Mrs. Keaton, and he had no trouble arranging for Kate to be enrolled there.

When Kate heard where she was going, she exploded anew. “I’ve heard about that school! It’s awful. I’ll come back like one of those stuffed English dolls. Is that what you’d like?”

“What I would like is for you to learn some manners,” Margaret told her.

“I don’t need manners. I’ve got brains.”

“That’s not the first thing a man looks for in a woman,” Margaret said dryly, “and you’re becoming a woman.”

“I don’t want to become a woman,” Kate screamed. “Why the bloody hell can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I will not have you using that language.”

And so it went until the morning arrived when Kate was to leave. Since David was going to London on a business trip, Margaret asked, “Would you mind seeing that Kate gets to school safely? The Lord only knows where she’ll end up if she goes on her own.”

“I’ll be happy to,” David said.

“You! You’re as bad as my mother! You can’t wait to get rid of me.”

David grinned. “You’re wrong. I can wait.”

 

 

They traveled by private railway car from Klipdrift to Cape Town and from there by ship to Southampton. The journey took four weeks. Kate’s pride would not let her admit it, but she was thrilled to be traveling with David. It’s like a honeymoon, she thought, except that we’re not married. Not yet.

Aboard ship, David spent a great deal of time working in his stateroom. Kate curled up on the couch, silently watching him, content to be near him.

Once she asked, “Don’t you get bored working on all those figures, David?”

He put down his pen and looked at her. “They’re not just figures, Kate. They’re stories.”

“What kind of stories?”

“If you know how to read them, they’re stories about companies we’re buying or selling, people who work for us. Thousands of people all over the world earn a living because of the company your father founded.”

“Am I anything like my father?”

“In many ways, yes. He was a stubborn, independent man.”

“Am I a stubborn, independent woman?”

“You’re a spoiled brat. The man who marries you is going to have one hell of a life.”

Kate smiled dreamily. Poor David.

 

 

In the dining room, on their last night at sea, David asked, “Why are you so difficult, Kate?”

“Am I?”

“You know you are. You drive your poor mother crazy.”

Kate put her hand over his. “Do I drive you crazy?”

David’s face reddened. “Stop that. I don’t understand you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Why can’t you be like other girls your age?”

“I’d rather die first. I don’t want to be like anybody else.”

“God knows you’re not!”

“You won’t marry anyone else until I’m grown up enough for you, will you, David? I’ll get older as fast as I can. I promise. Just don’t meet anybody you love, please.”

He was touched by her earnestness. He took her hand in his and said, “Kate, when I get married, I’d like my daughter to be exactly like you.”

Kate rose to her feet and said in a voice that rang through the dining salon, “You can bloody well go to hell, David Blackwell!” And she stormed out of the room, as everyone stared.