Property of a Noblewoman by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online Page B

She was trying to say something to Jane, and explain something to her, but through the entire troubled night, Jane never figured out what it was. John didn’t come home again on Sunday night and had texted her he’d slept on someone’s couch. She got up Monday morning, feeling drained and frustrated, and got ready for another week in surrogate’s court. At least she had the Christie’s appraisal to look forward to the next day. It was a welcome change. And with all that spectacular jewelry, Marguerite’s estate was anything but boring. It was the only excitement and bright spot in her life for now.

Chapter 4
     
    PHILLIP LAWTON LEFT his apartment in Chelsea at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning, as he did every week, to rendezvous with the love of his life. Her name was
Sweet Sallie
, she was an old wooden sailboat he had owned for eight years, and he kept her in a small harbor on Long Island. He spent every weekend on her, no matter what the weather, and when it was decent, he spent all his time sanding, cleaning, painting. She was immaculate, and no woman had ever given him as much joy. He was fiercely proud of her, and he usually spent Saturday night on her, and Friday night too whenever possible. It was a prerequisite that the women he went out with also loved
Sweet Sallie.
Some did more than others. Most women got tired of the boat after a while, and Phillip’s passion for her. She was the possession he was most proud of. He had loved sailing since he was a boy, even more than he loved art. He was a good sailor, and would often take her out in rough seas or summer storms. But at those times, he went alone and didn’t expect anyone to go with him.
    At thirty-four, he had been involved in numerous relationships over the past years, but none either serious or long-term. A few had lasted a year, but most of them ran their course in a few months, and by then he or the woman or both had figured out that it was going nowhere and never would. Phillip had high ideals about what he wanted in a long-term relationship, and particularly a wife, and his role model was his parents’ marriage, which had seemed perfect to him. He compared all relationships to theirs and wanted nothing less for the long haul. His parents had been crazy about each other, until his father’s death three years before. They had been the ideal complement to each other, and fit together seamlessly. The whole relationship had always been characterized by humor, kindness, compassion, tenderness, a profound love for each other, and deep mutual respect. Phillip had no sense of how rare that was in today’s world and thought it was normal. His father was ten years his mother’s senior. They had met when she took one of his art history classes at NYU. His mother was a serious artist, for whose work his father had the greatest admiration.
    They had been unable to have children for the first fifteen years of their marriage, despite many attempts and several miscarriages, and had finally given up and decided that their relationship was so strong and meaningful to both of them that perhaps they would be happier without children, and had finally accepted their inability to have them. And six months later, when his mother turned forty, and his father fifty, she had gotten pregnant with Phillip, and this time the pregnancy went effortlessly to a successful end. They called him their miracle child, doted on him, and included him in the magic circle of their deep affection for each other. He had grown up bathed in the warmth of their love and approval, and every relationship he had as an adult fell short of the generosity of spirit and sheer joy he had seen between his parents, and he wasn’t willing to accept less. And unless he had a relationship like theirs, he had no desire to settle down, and was comfortable alone. Maybe too comfortable.
    His mother had been concerned, for several years now, that his standards were so high, and his idealistic vision of