Chapter Six
T he Fox and Hounds had seen its fair share of odd conversations.
Heated debates about cricket were practically par for the course.
There had been scandalous gossip about the vicar and an assortment of village widows, as well as chatter about whose garden gnome had mysteriously appeared in the village fountain one night.
A man had once tried to order a flat white, and had been thrown out on principal.
But even for this pub, a negotiation over a marriage contract was a new one.
Eleanor arrived first, naturally. She had never been late to anything in her life and wasn’t about to start now, even if the meeting she was about to have was odd beyond all reasonable standards.
Punctuality was a sign of good breeding.
She selected the cleanest table she could see, though clean was a relative term in an establishment where the furniture had seen better centuries, and sat down, posture ramrod straight.
She smoothed her blazer, trying not to dwell on the fact that she was about to orchestrate a marriage of convenience over a pint.
In fact, she was the one that had chosen the pub.
Neutral ground had seemed wise, though she was dubious about the decision just at the moment.
And she was going to order beer. When in an unfamiliar place, one did what one could to blend in, and in a pub that meant drinking beer.
A tiny piece of her was excited at the thought of it .
But by the time Danni strolled in, precisely ten minutes late, no waitress had appeared to take Eleanor’s order.
Danni looked like she hadn’t a care in the world, particularly not when it came to scheduling, and was in muddy boots, jeans with a suspicious-looking stain on the knee, and a flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up.
She looked as though she’d just finished wrestling an unruly cow.
Which, as far as Eleanor knew, might be the truth.
She sauntered over and flopped into the chair across from Eleanor, grinning.
“You’re late,” Eleanor said.
Danni stretched her legs out, looking entirely too comfortable. “I’m on farmer time. It’s flexible.”
“Civilization does not operate on ‘farmer time’,” Eleanor said.
“You could have got the drinks in,” said Danni, ignoring her.
“I would have, had I known what you would like, and had a waitress come to ask.”
Danni rolled her eyes and got up. “It’s a pub. You order at the bar. What do you want?”
“A pint,” Eleanor said, having never said the word before without the addendum ‘of milk’ and rather enjoying the sound of it.
Danni’s eyebrows raised, but she said nothing and went off to the bar. She came back a few minutes later carrying two large glasses. “So, do I get a ring, or are we just skipping straight to the prenup?”
Eleanor eyed the glass in front of her. It was rather larger than she’d imagined it would be.
Then she exhaled sharply through her nose and pulled out her notebook, flipping to a neatly written list that she’d prepared in advance.
“This is a business arrangement. Nothing more. If we are to do this, we need clear boundaries.”
Danni smirked and took a mouthful of beer that left her with a foamy mustache. “Oh, goody. Boundaries.”
“It’s for both of our benefits,” Eleanor continued. “We get legally married. I gain my inheritance. You gain financial stability. We keep our personal lives separate. ”
“So, no cuddling?” Danni said, raising an eyebrow.
Eleanor pursed her lips. “No.”
“Are you going to drink that beer or just look at it?” Danni asked.
Hesitantly, Eleanor picked up the glass and took a small, polite sip. It tasted of sourness and countryside and elements that she couldn’t name. She swallowed quickly to avoid choking on it.
Danni looked amused. “What about holding hands at village fêtes then?” she asked.
“Certainly not,” said Eleanor, still trying to dispel the taste of beer from her mouth and wishing that she’d asked for a glass of water as well.
Danni looked over her shoulder and made a gesture to the woman working behind the bar and then turned back to Eleanor. “You sure about that?” she asked. “I mean, we wouldn’t want anyone asking questions, would we?”
Eleanor took a second to consider this. As far as she knew, there’d be no one asking questions. But then, could she be sure? She gave a sharp nod. “Very well. We’ll be seen in public together. Shall we say once a month?”
Danni snorted, which Eleanor took as assent. “What about passionate declarations of love in the rain?” she asked.
“No,” Eleanor said. “And if you’re not going to take this seriously, then we can end this conversation right now. It might be a marriage of convenience, but we both still stand to gain, and potentially lose, a fair amount. We both have an interest in making this work.”
Before Danni could reply, a shadow fell over the table and Eleanor looked up to see a young woman of about Danni’s age, a glass of wine in her hand, and a shocked look on her face. “Tell me I did not hear what I think I just heard,” she said.
With a groan, Danni looked at Eleanor. “El, meet Indi. We went to school together.”
“El?” Eleanor said.
“Just trying it out, Princess,” said Danni.
“I don’t like it. ”
“Fine. Lena?”
“No.”
“Excuse me,” said Indi. “Are they two of you planning a fake marriage over steak and ale pie?”
“Not unless you’re offering,” said Danni. “I’m skint. Oh, but you’ve got the fake marriage bit right.”
“Fake is taking things a bit far,” Eleanor allowed.
“It’s all above board and legal,” said Danni. “Practical, as well.”
Indi stared at her like she was contemplating smacking her upside the head with a bar towel. “Oh yes, because nothing says practical like marrying a posh lady you crashed into two days ago. I’m assuming this is her?”
Eleanor, who was quickly figuring out that maintaining her dignity in this situation was going to be an uphill battle, cleared her throat. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Perfectly legal.”
Indi squinted at both of them and then sighed. “You two are insane. Fine. I know that Danni won’t listen to sense, and I’m assuming your Ladyship won’t either. I suppose it’s a secret?”
“Maybe,” said Danni, looking a bit unsure.
“Then my lips are sealed for the moment.” A wide grin spread across Indi’s face. “As long as I get to be there when you tell Hector.”
“That’s a terrible condition,” Danni groaned.
“It’s my price, take it or leave it,” said Indi. She put the glass of wine down in front of Eleanor. “It’s a Grafenraben Cru d’Alsace Riesling from the Domaine Bott-Geyl,” she said. “Very drinkable, saline notes with hints of stone fruits.”
Eleanor gaped at her.
“It’s not the fifties,” Indi said defensively. “We’ve got a wine cellar. Quite a decent one, actually.” She waltzed off, Eleanor still gaping.
Danni reached over and pulled Eleanor’s beer over to her side of the table. “I get it,” she said. “Strictly business. Cold. Emotionless. Purely transactional. Sounds delightful.”
“Hector?” Eleanor asked, finally finding her voice. She took a mouthful of the wine and it was, as Indi had said, extremely drinkable. Very good, in fact.
“My brother,” said Danni. “He runs the farm up the hill from mine. The big one. You must have seen it driving up to my house.”
Eleanor nodded. “Any further family?”
“Just my mum left,” said Danni. “She and I… it’s complicated.” She took a couple of gulps of her pint. “What about you?”
“Grandmother,” Eleanor said.
“Oh. Um…”
Eleanor sighed. She supposed that they would have to know at least the bare minimum about each other.
Just in case it came up. Just in case a nosy lawyer or someone came asking questions.
“I’m an only child. My parents went down in a plane crash.
I was three. Somewhere over the Thai jungle or something. ”
Danni considered this but didn’t say anything, for which Eleanor was grateful.
She was particularly grateful that Danni didn’t say sorry, which was what most people said, and it had always struck Eleanor as foolish.
What would they be sorry for? She wasn’t sorry.
She barely remembered them. From all she’d heard, she’d been better off with her grandmother.
Hippies, the both of them, her grandfather had used to say.
Feeling as if she’d briefly lost control of the conversation, Eleanor cleared her throat again.
“Back to the matter at hand. We shall, as you say, maintain appearances for legal reasons. Occasional public outings, as you suggest. I’ll add to that a Christmas card, perhaps an occasional shared dinner if absolutely necessary. ”
With a glint in her eye, Danni leaned back in her chair, watching Eleanor. “You know, for someone who insists that this is strictly business, you’re putting a lot of effort into making it sound like a marriage.”
For a moment, Eleanor felt a fluttering in her stomach as Danni looked at her. She ignored it. This was business. Nothing more.
She tapped her pen against her notebook. “Very well. I’ll take care of the legal details and we’ll get to the registry office as soon as they can squeeze us in.”
“Cool,” said Danni. “But I have to ask, are you going to propose properly, or what?”
Eleanor, momentarily caught off guard, opened her mouth, nearly responding in earnest before she saw the glint of mischief in Danni’s eyes.
“Kidding,” Danni smirked, picking up her pint and draining it before pulling Eleanor’s closer to her. “Unless, of course, you want to get down on one knee, Lady Eleanor? Do things properly?”
Eleanor scowled and stood up. “Goodnight, Danielle.”
“Serious names, is it?” Danni laughed. “Go on then. I suppose I’ll see you at the altar.”
Eleanor was all the way out into the sunny afternoon before she realized that Danni was probably right. The next time they saw each other would be at the altar. Well, the registry office desk, she supposed.