Chapter Eleven #2
He retrieved his tablet, brought up the excel-sheet with the financial overview, then handed it to the older man. “We’ve discussed it in detail, and we want my wife’s income not to be taken into consideration, as we’re thinking of having children soon.”
Mrs. Brady-Greene clasped her hands in front of her chest. “But, of course. We understand, what could be more natural than to provide the House of Renwood with an heir.”
Delia focused on the woman opposite her.
She had an inkling that Mrs. Brady-Greene had a significant influence on the outcome of this meeting.
“We were planning on having our children quite close together, and that would mean I’d be on maternity leave for an extended period.
After that, I’ll return to work full time in the confidence that my husband is running the Hall in a profitable manner which will allow me to build up a fund for our children’s education with my income. ”
The banker gave his wife a small nod, then to Delia he said, “Very sensible, Lady Renwood, very commendable, in fact, to keep those two incomes apart.” He leaned back in his seat.
“I can see you are a wonderful team, and it bodes well for Renwood Hall and the Renwood family as a whole that you two have found each other.” He glanced at his wife, then both beamed benignly at Gabriel and Delia.
Gabriel grasped Delia’s hand, and she cast her gaze down. The performance was perfect. She was sure they had the Brady-Greenes convinced that there’d be little Renwoods running through the Hall’s rooms and corridors before too long.
A pang of guilt gnawed at her for deceiving the couple. They were kind people, if somewhat sentimental and a touch snobbish, but Gabriel’s needs came first.
She took a last sip of tepid tea, then placed her cup on its dainty saucer, when Mrs. Brady-Greene unexpectedly grabbed her left hand.
“I’m surprised to see that he did not buy you an engagement ring.”
Delia resisted the impulse to jerk her hand away.
Panic zinged through her bloodstream, but she was nothing if not a fast thinker.
“Oh, I didn’t want one.” She lifted her head and forced her lips into a curve.
“I normally don’t wear any jewelry other than my wedding band; it’s not practical at work, since I spend a lot of time in the lab where I have to wear gloves.
An engagement ring would be an unnecessary expense. ”
“Of course, yes, I didn’t think of that.” Florence Brady-Greene released her hand with an affectionate smile. “But, tell me, how did he propose?”
Delia made a small grimace and briefly turned to Gabriel. His stricken face triggered her mischievous streak, and she decided to have a bit of fun. “He brought me to the Renwood family vault and asked me if I wanted to be buried with his people.”
He snorted, and she chuckled, while the Brady-Greenes shared stunned expressions.
“That’s not what happened,” Gabriel said evenly, his voice lit with the remnants of laughter.
“So, what did happen?” Mrs. Brady-Greene dug in, not prepared to let them off the hook.
“I, er, took her to the tea pavilion in the park where we sat among the climbing roses, and I asked her if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.” Gabriel looked at Delia with his ocean-colored eyes and pressed her hand still held in his.
And the faintest flutter, the merest stutter interrupted her heart’s rhythm.
“Aw, beautiful,” Mrs. Brady-Greene cooed.
Once they had left the bank manager’s residence, Gabriel whispered in her ear, “Delia, your performance was Oscar-worthy.”
She batted her lashes. “Now, let’s not get reckless. Keep a hold of my hand until we’re well out of sight. They might be watching from behind the curtains.”
“You’re right.” He pulled her tight against his side as they made their way to his Land Rover. “We don’t want to fall at the last hurdle.”
“That’d be a crying shame after all the hard work. It was a close call, though.” She dragged her palms down her cheeks. “I nearly died when she grasped my hand, looking for an engagement ring. We’re such amateurs, forgetting a rather important detail.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I should’ve thought of it since I bought an engagement ring once.”
“You were engaged?” She studied him with concern. Was there a tragic episode hidden in his past?
“Yes, we called it off, well, she did and returned the ring, but I sold it and forgot about it.” He shrugged. “That was two years ago. Vanessa and I had been together for three. It’s all water under the bridge now, and I wish her well.”
His tone convinced Delia that he meant what he said. Good. She didn’t want her friend to still be suffering from an old heartbreak.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the crunching of gravel the only sound between them.
“I think you should hug me and give me a gentle husbandly kiss before we get into the car. That should seal the deal.” She tugged at his arm.
“Have you noticed how excited they were when we invited them to our phantom wedding? You’re going to have to think of a watertight excuse for the wedding not going ahead.
I bet Mrs. Brady-Greene is already scouring the internet for a hat. ”
He clasped her hand. “That’s easy. I’ll tell them you cheated on me and broke my heart, and the only thing that keeps me going is establishing the Hall as an exclusive venue.”
She dropped his hand and stopped, fists on her hips. “Me? Why do I have to be the one who’s cheating?”
He coaxed her arms free. “Because I’ll have to keep in Brady-Greene’s good books if I ever need another loan or am late with repayments or whatever. A jilted man always elicits sympathy.”
“Okay.” She turned her face to the side and blew out a breath. “I’ll let you off with blackening my name, but I’m sure I’ll regret it later on.” She continued walking toward the car, and he fell in step beside her.
Once they reached the Land Rover, he embraced her. “Thank you, my darling, for your sacrifice.”
“Go on.” She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Nothing showy, just a quick kiss.”
“A peck.” His voice was raspy.
“Exactly that.”
He touched his lips to hers. A perfunctory kiss for the benefit of the Brady-Greenes, nothing more.
But his soft, warm mouth invited her to linger.
A jolt of electricity went through her, and she swiftly let go of him.
He opened the passenger door for her before rounding the car and getting behind the wheel.
Flustered and a touch confused, she climbed in beside him and fastened her seat belt.
He started the car, then reversed out of the driveway. Before they’d made it very far down the road, he burst out laughing.
“Why...” he paused for breath, “why on earth did you tell them I asked you whether you wanted to be buried with my people? In the family vault of all places.”
She threw him a sideways glance. “We kind of had a date in the crypt, didn’t we?”
“Not my idea of a date.”
She placed one hand on her sternum. “Me, I love a good exhumation.”
He pressed his lips together to control his laughter, but little bursts escaped him every so often.
“And it’s also an old Irish wedding proposal,” she continued.
He raised his eyebrows. “‘Would you like to be buried with my people?’ That’s considered romantic in Ireland?”
“Was, in the olden days.” She folded her hands in her lap. “You should know this, given your Irish roots.”
“I have no...”
A warm chuckle rolled from her throat. “Ah, I forgot, you’re in denial.”
He shook his head, smiling, and concentrated on the road ahead.