Chapter 13
Three hours later and I was sitting surrounded by bags, boxes and a crystal flute of champagne.
‘Do you think you have everything? Is there anything else you need?’
‘Edward!’ I waved my hand to encompass the shopping around us.
‘I have more than enough of everything. And you have to let me pay.’ I remembered the price of some of the items which Edward had insisted on, despite my protestations.
‘At least for some of it,’ I added. From the short time I’d known him, I knew there was no way he was going to let me pay for any of it but I also wanted to make sure I wasn’t indenturing myself to him and his family for the rest of my life.
‘No.’ He finished the coffee he’d opted for and placed the cup and saucer neatly back on the table. ‘And that’s an end to it.’
I raised a brow.
‘Please,’ he added.
I pretended to think about it. ‘Then thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. It’ll be cheaper than hospital fees if you go down with pneumonia so it’s really all self-interest.’
I didn’t believe a word of it but I tipped back the last of my champagne and stood up.
‘How are we going to get all these in that car?’
‘We’re not. Although it’s roomier than you’d think. They’ll deliver them to the house this afternoon and I’ll bring them down to the cottage later.’
I kept my eyes forward but Edward clearly didn’t miss a thing.
‘Delivery duties only. Don’t panic.’
My dad always said I could be read like a book.
I was more like my mum that way. Dad, obviously, had developed a different skillset and sometimes, I wish he’d taught me that, along with the self-defence he’d insisted on.
But he’d always said my openness was one of my best qualities and he wasn’t about to quash it.
That, and it reminded him of Mum. It was hard to argue when people gave you reasoning like that.
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘You didn’t have to.’
‘You should meet my dad.’
‘I’d like to.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Why not?’
‘I… I don’t know. Most blokes freak when you say something like that, even in jest.’
The manager had approached us and Edward shook his hand, thanked him for his help and I did the same. We let him keep his tie. Arrangements were checked and we left the shop, Edward holding the door for me as we did so. His arm momentarily blocked me and I looked up.
‘I’m not most blokes.’
That, I was beginning to realise, was an understatement.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘I could eat, but I’ve got stuff at home. If you want to… you know, meet some friends or something, I can just jump on the bus home.’
Edward gave a small tilt of his head. ‘Firstly, I was unaware that there was a bus stop on the estate, and secondly, I don’t want to meet anyone. I have the most interesting company right here. Unless you’re desperate for a bus ride and the ensuing hike.’
‘Smart arse. I was trying to give you an out so there’s no need to be facetious.’
He drew himself up, which, at nearly six five, was already pretty impressive, then let out a breath. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, you’ve had a busy week and I’m sure have plenty to be getting on with at home.’ He pulled the car key from his pocket. ‘I’ll take you back.’
I grabbed a handful of lapel as he made to turn. The hypnotic gaze dropped to my hand and then met mine. I let go immediately.
‘Sorry.’ I smoothed the fabric which probably cost more per metre than my rent in London.
He made the merest dismissive movement with his head.
‘I just… I… Look, I’m… I think I’m getting myself in a bit of a pickle about everything.’
‘Everything?’
‘Buying all that stuff for a start.’
‘Which is required for work and, you will note in your contract, any clothing that is required will be provided by your employer, i.e. me. I thought we’d discussed that. Also, I was unaware that anyone, other than my mother, still used “in a pickle”. It’s very charming.’
‘Well, that’s me. Charming as the day is long. And yes, we did discuss that. But what we haven’t discussed and what you seem to be purposely avoiding is this “engagement” scenario.’
‘Is that what you’re edgy about?’
‘I’m not edgy.’
‘You seem more edgy than you were earlier?’
‘That’s because every time I’ve tried to check that this whole fake-fiancée thing has been entirely straightened out, you’ve pointedly avoided the subject and changed the topic.’
‘Pointedly?’
‘Pointedly,’ I confirmed.
‘Oh. And I thought I was being terribly clever with the misdirection.’
‘I’m not as green as I’m cabbage looking.’
Edward studied me for a moment. ‘Clearly.’
‘So?’ I asked when, once more, he failed to be more forthcoming on the subject.
‘What?’
‘Edward!’ I whacked him on the arm.
‘I’m working on it. I promise. It’s just a little more complicated than I hoped.’ He glanced at me. ‘I really am sorry but I will sort it.’ His expression was suitably pained. Bloody Fenella.
‘OK.’
A pause hung between us.
Edward rubbed his arm. ‘I didn’t realise assault and battery counted among your skills. Did they teach that at Kew too?’
‘Oh, hilaire!’
He looked down at me. Even with my heels, there was still a substantial gap in height.
‘You’ve been spending far too much time with my brother.’
‘Don’t blame me. He’s the one that comes down to find us. And,’ I gave him another tap, ‘don’t stop him doing it as he usually brings cake.’
‘Ah! I knew there was a reason people liked him better than me.’
‘I’m sure that’s not the case.’
‘I was joking.’
‘Oh.’
He smiled down at me. ‘But if it is the case, there’s not much I can do about it and to be honest, I’m not terribly bothered.’
‘That’s a good attitude to have.’
‘Do you care if you think people don’t like you?’
I gave a shrug. ‘I think most people want to be liked. It’s human nature, a throwback from being part of the tribe and so on. Being an army brat, it seems to go two ways. Either you are a people pleaser and do your best to melt into the scenery or you’re the opposite.’
‘And which were you?’
‘Honestly?’ I asked, looking up at him as he held open the door to a restaurant we had meandered our way to.
‘Always.’
‘The first few years, I was the second but soon realised the first was a far easier option.’
‘You could never melt into the background,’ Edward said, looking thoughtful. He continued before my mind got busy on his words. ‘You weren’t happy.’
‘I wasn’t unhappy. It was how it was. My parents did their best. Anyway, it was all a long time ago.’
‘No siblings?’
‘No. But Freddy, she’s my bestie, is like a sister and she has three brothers so I have honorary ones.’
‘Best of both worlds. Freddy?’
‘Winifred but call her that and she’ll bite your ankles.’
‘Is she a chihuahua?’
‘No, but she’s dinky. And beautiful. Isaac caught sight of her profile on my phone the other day and is already in love.’
‘Crikey.’
‘She has that effect. In fact,’ I said, thanking the server who took my coat, before turning back to Edward, ‘Freddy would be perfect for a fake fiancée. And when you “broke up”,’ I stated the words slowly with accompanying finger shapes, ‘You’d get all the sympathy.
Not that you would break up anyway as you’d be smitten. ’
‘Don’t be so sure.’
‘Everyone is.’
‘As we’ve already discussed, I’m not everyone. Also, it sounds like I’d have to get in line behind Isaac for a start, plus I’ve never been a fan of chihuahuas.’
We were settled in a corner booth that gave us both a good view of the rest of the restaurant.
Above us, the spring sunshine flooded in from a glass dome and the central, circular bar was placed below it, dark wood contrasting with the polished brass fittings.
Around the edge, Georgian panelling was picked out in a soft white from the pale-blue wall and tasteful oil paintings of local landscapes finished the look.
‘This is so beautiful. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in a restaurant like it. It’s more like something from a stately home.’
‘It used to be a ballroom for a local landowner.’
‘Yours?’
‘Ha. No. We still have our ballroom.’
I pulled an ooh, get you face and Edward grinned before continuing.
‘Actually, we don’t. It was converted into a conference room a few years ago.’
‘Shame.’
‘Not really. It was a space sitting unused, collecting dust and with the increase in home workers, it seemed a good prospect to offer it as a place for when people do actually, God forbid, have to speak to each other in person.’
‘If I had pearls, I’d clutch them now.’
‘I’ll use my imagination.’
‘Please do.’
I dutifully clutched my fictional pearls.
He squinted at me. ‘Ah yes, I see it now. Very convincing.’
‘So is the change of use proving to be a good choice?’ Immediately, I flapped my hand. ‘I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.’
‘Don’t be silly. We’re having a conversation and that is a natural and intelligent question to ask. And yes, it is so far. As it’s at the far side of the house, it doesn’t intrude on Mother’s privacy, etc.’
‘Or yours.’
‘No. Although both Barnaby and I have apartments in London so Ashington Manor isn’t our full time residence, unlike Mother.’
The waitress appeared with the drinks that Edward had ordered as we were being seated, with no glance at the menu. He thanked her and held up the glass of champagne to mine.
‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’
‘Do delegates just come for the day?’
‘Sometimes,’ he replied, opening the menu and beginning to peruse it.
‘Do you have clients who stay in the house?’
Edward looked up, the briefest expression of appal flitting across his face.
‘I take it that’s a no.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘I’m not the only one who can be read like a book.’
‘Rubbish,’ he scoffed, returning to the menu. ‘Generations of my family have spent their entire lives making sure their expressions remain entirely unreadable. And I went to private school. Years of experience.’
‘You’re good, I grant you, but I had my own private tuition in searching out micro expressions and the thought of strangers staying in your house was not a pleasant one.’ I steepled my fingers, rested my chin on them and fixed my gaze. ‘Tell me I’m wrong.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘And you’re lying.’
He shook his head without looking at me.
‘I’m not judging. I wouldn’t want strangers in my house either.’
‘It’s not that… I grew up surrounded by guests much of the time.’
‘Oh God! Well, that’s enough for you to never want to have them again.’
The smile flickered. ‘It’s not that.’
‘You like your own space.’
‘Yes! Exactly. Exactly that.’
‘Same.’
The waitress approached the table, notepad in hand.
‘Then again,’ I whispered to Edward while keeping my eyes firmly on my menu, ‘I don’t still live with Mummy.’
‘Good afternoon. May I take your order or would you like a little more time?’ she asked.
‘I’m ready, are you?’ Edward turned to me.
‘I am.’
‘Excellent. What would you like, madame?’
You’ve got to love a French accent.
I made my choice of fish pie with a side of creamed spinach and Edward ordered the salmon, and the same side.
‘Will that be all?’
‘Some still water for the table and extra arsenic on the fish pie, please.’
The waitress blinked at Edward. I thought I’d got away with the ‘Mummy’ comment but clearly not.
Edward smiled. ‘Just the water will be fine.’
She hurried away.
‘You’ve terrified the poor woman. She didn’t know you were joking!’
‘I’m sure she’ll recover and who said I was joking?’
I stuck my tongue out and took a sip of champagne but something was niggling at me.
‘Sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘I was only teasing about you living with your mum. She’s really nice and I think it’s lovely you have such a good relationship with her.’
‘Well… that’s been tested lately.’
‘Which brings us nicely around to you telling me that the “misunderstanding” has been dealt with.’
‘About that…’
‘Edward! You promised you’d fix it immediately.’
He held up his hands towards me. ‘I know, I know, and I had every intention of doing so the very next morning.’
‘I sense a but coming.’
He obliged me. ‘But… by early the next morning, all our phones were ringing and pinging with messages of congratulation.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ He took a large gulp of champagne. ‘Verity’s mother has always been extremely efficient at spreading the news.’
‘Isaac said as much. Sounds like a polite word for gossip?’
‘At times.’
‘Well then she can un-spread it just as efficiently! I came here to start a new chapter in my life, not to get dragged in to big-house shenanigans and be made to look like some sort of gold digger, thank you very much. And the longer you let it go on, the worse it will be!’
Edward was watching me. ‘Shenanigans?’
‘Yes! Shenanigans.’
‘I do love the terms you come out with. Also, I don’t think anyone has called it “the big house” since 1959.’
I fixed him with a look. ‘This needs to be rectified, Edward. I’m not getting involved in some fake relationship with you. I really like your mum, but she needs to undo this.’
‘Believe me, I’m as keen for that to happen as you are.’
‘So, make it happen!’
‘I will.’
‘Good.’
Silence.
‘There’s another but, isn’t there?’
He scratched his nose.
‘The thing is, now it’s been said and raced around like a bloody wildfire…’
‘Yes?’
He pursed his lips and blew out a long breath. ‘Well, it’s going to make Mum look slightly foolish and I’d like to avoid that if it’s at all possible.’
‘But you’re happy for me to look like a gold digger?’
The dark brows drew together. ‘Absolutely not! And if I hear anyone saying such a thing—’
‘You’ll what? Tell them it’s all right because it’s not true anyway?’
Edward remained silent.
‘Also, people don’t tend to say that sort of thing to the man involved. It’s all said behind backs and often within hearing distance of the woman involved. Not that there’s any double standards or anything.’
I downed the rest of my champagne. Edward was watching me.
‘Tell me.’