Holiday with the Best Man (12 page)

BOOK: Holiday with the Best Man
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‘OK.' He dragged in a breath. ‘Lyn was pregnant when she died. It was so early on that she probably didn't even know. But how different things might've been,' he finished wistfully.

Roland would've been a father and Lyn would've had the baby she'd longed for so badly. And his marriage might have healed. But the driver who'd crashed into Lyn had taken away all those possibilities. No wonder Roland had locked himself away. ‘I'm so sorry,' she said, still holding his hand.

‘And that's partly why I haven't really dated since she died. Part of me wants to move on, because I can't spend the rest of my life in mourning. The Lyn I married wouldn't have wanted me to do that—just as I wouldn't have wanted her to be on her own if I'd been the one who was killed and she was the one left behind,' he said. ‘But it went sour for us because she wanted a family so desperately. And that's what's stopped me moving on. I don't want to go through that again, to lose the woman I love a little more each day and know I can't do anything to help.'

‘I can understand that,' Grace said.

‘But then I realised something,' he said. ‘These last few days I've been running away again, burying myself in work so I didn't have to think or face things—but I'm ready to face them now.'

‘Face what?' she asked.

‘The fact that...' He took a deep breath. ‘I love you, Grace. And I want to be with you. And I should've told you that as soon as we got back from Venice, instead of letting you come back here on your own.'

‘I don't get it,' she said.

‘You don't believe I love you?'

‘I don't get why you're saying this to me now. Nothing's changed since we came back from Venice.'

‘Oh, but it has,' he corrected. ‘I've had time to think. Time to miss you. And what finally made me realise was when I found the paperweight—and you thanked me for sweeping you off your feet.'

So did that mean...? The hope she'd ruthlessly squashed earlier flickered back into life.

‘And I think you swept me off my feet, too,' he said. ‘In just over two weeks, you taught me to have fun again. You taught me how to reconnect.'

‘But I didn't really do anything,' she said. ‘You're the one who did all the big romantic stuff and took me to places I'd always wanted to see. I don't even know what your dreams are, so I couldn't even begin to start making any of them come true.'

‘I didn't know what my dreams were, either, but I do now,' he said. ‘I want to live, really live, with the woman I love. A woman who's brave and funny and sweet.'

He couldn't possibly be describing her. ‘But I'm not brave. Or funny. I'm just
ordinary
.'

‘You're quiet and sensible and grounded,' he said, ‘which is all good. But there's more to you than that. There's also a part of you that shines. The woman I danced with on the bank of the Seine, and who was brave enough to order lunch in Paris in schoolgirl French. The woman who likes to plan everything but who put herself out of her comfort zone for a few weeks. The woman who makes my world so much brighter just by being there. And I want you in my life for good, Grace. As my wife.'

But he'd been there before and it had all gone wrong. She couldn't just sweep that under the carpet. ‘What about children?' she asked.

‘Yet more proof that you're brave,' he said wryly, ‘since you're not scared of dealing with a subject that would make most people shy away. Especially because you're the only other person in the world who knows the whole truth about Lyn and me.' He looked at her. ‘I admit, part of me is scared to death about it. I've had one marriage go sour on me—and it's something I can't really talk about, because Lyn can't speak up for herself now and I don't want people to think badly of her.'

‘Absolutely,' she agreed. ‘And, just so you know, I don't think badly of her either.'

‘Thank you.' He took a deep breath. ‘I'm not confusing you with Lyn. I'm not seeing you as her replacement—I'm seeing you as you. But, even though I want to be with you, it scares me that I might end up repeating the same pattern.'

‘How?' she asked.

‘I don't want to see you get hurt and bogged down,' he said. ‘When I asked you in the museum if you wanted children, you said there were no guarantees.'

‘Because there aren't,' she said.

‘I don't know if the problem was with Lyn or with me,' he said. ‘If it was with me, then you and I might not be able to conceive. I hate the idea of going through all that again, knowing month after month that I've let you down. But,' he said, ‘if having children is really important to you, I'll take that risk. I just need to know that...' He stopped. ‘I'm making a mess of this.'

‘You need to know that our relationship is about more than just having children,' Grace said. ‘I get it.' She paused. ‘Do you want children, Roland?'

He nodded. ‘But not at the cost of my marriage. I love you, Grace, and I want to marry you. But wanting everything is greedy.'

‘You taught me something,' she said. ‘You taught me that it's OK not to settle for things, not to stick rigidly to my fall-back position of being sensible. It's OK to dream. But you need to balance it with real life and you need to keep it in perspective. If having children naturally doesn't work for us, we can look at other options. Being a biological parent is no guarantee of being a good one. Ed isn't related to me by blood, but he's the best dad I could ever have asked for.'

‘I agree with you. OK. So what happened to me and Lyn—that won't happen to us,' he said.

‘Definitely not,' she confirmed. ‘We won't let it.'

‘You know when we touched that heart-shaped brick in Venice?'

She nodded.

‘What did you wish for?'

‘You asked me that before—and if you tell a wish it doesn't come true,' she reminded him.

‘Actually, I got the legend wrong. Apparently, the real one is that if you touch the brick, you fall in love. If you touch the brick at the same time as someone else, you'll be devoted to each other for the rest of your days.' He paused. ‘We touched the brick at the same time, Grace. I remember that very clearly.'

She felt the colour heating her cheeks. ‘Yes.'

‘And I fell in love with you. I think I fell in love with you before then, but that was when it hit me.' He raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you want to know what I wished?'

‘What did you wish?' Her words were a whisper.

‘I wished that our arrangement was more than that. That it could be real. And carry on for the rest of our lives.'

Exactly the same as her own wish.

‘So will you marry me, Grace?' he asked. ‘Will you make my dreams come true?'

Every nerve in her body was urging her to say yes. To go for her dream. But her common sense still held her back. ‘We've known each other only a few weeks, and you really think we can make a go of it?' She shook her head. ‘But I'd known Howard for eighteen months before he proposed—six months as a colleague and a year as my boyfriend.'

‘So you don't want to marry me?' His face went inscrutable.

‘My heart's telling me to rush in and say yes,' she admitted, ‘but I'm still scared. Like you, I've been there before and it's gone wrong. I was engaged to Howard for four years, Roland.'

‘And you still hadn't bought your wedding dress, three weeks before the big day—when I know you're the super-organised type who likes planning things in advance,' he pointed out. ‘So maybe you knew deep down that marriage wasn't the right thing for you and Howard, and you let it go as slowly as you could.'

‘Maybe.'

Again, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the backs of her fingers. ‘His parents didn't like you, and they made you feel as if you were a worthless gold-digger. So I'm guessing that you're worried my family will feel that same way about you, too.'

She swallowed hard. ‘Yes.'

‘My family isn't like Howard's,' he said. ‘They're not judgemental. They're eccentric and they have bossy tendencies—well, you've met Philly so you already know that bit for yourself—but they're warm and they'll love you to bits as soon as they meet you. And I definitely like everyone I've met in your family.'

‘Uh-huh.' She bit her lip. ‘Roland, I'm not very good about being spontaneous. And I know you're good at sweeping me off my feet, but that wouldn't be right—not for this. Can I have some time to think about it? Time to sort my head out?'

‘Yes,' he said, ‘but I'm not giving you time to worry about things. Come and meet my family tomorrow, so you can see for yourself that it'll be fine.'

She looked at him, horrified. ‘That's not giving them much notice.'

He smiled. ‘Are you telling me you wouldn't ring Bella or your parents on the spur of the moment and ask if you could drop in for a cup of tea? Or that they wouldn't drop in on you unexpectedly?'

‘They're my family. That's what families do.'

‘Exactly. And it's the same for me. So you'll come and meet them tomorrow?'

She didn't have any arguments left. And she knew she was right: the only way to get over her fears was to meet them. ‘OK.'

‘Good.'

‘But I need you to know that I'll never come between you and your family. If they don't like me, then I'll fade out of your life,' she warned.

‘Deal,' he said. ‘And I need you to know that I'm absolutely certain that won't happen. They'll love you, Grace. They'll see you for who you are and they'll love you.' He kissed her lingeringly. ‘More to the point,
I
love you.'

‘I love you, too,' she said shyly.

‘But you're worried that the past is going to repeat itself and you need to be sure it won't. I get that.' He smiled. ‘And I'll wait until you're ready to give me an answer.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, Grace woke in Roland's arms. She lay there for a moment, just enjoying being close to him; but gradually she grew antsy.

Today was the day she was going to meet his family.

He'd said it would be light and easy. Just coffee. And he was sure they'd love her.

But what if they didn't? Howard's parents had never thought she was good enough for their son. And Roland's background was very different from her own.

She knew that if she lay there, she'd get more and more miserable, and she'd start fidgeting. She needed to be active; but she also didn't want to wake Roland and start whining at him.

When life gives you lemons, she thought, you make lemon drizzle cake.

And maybe that would be a good way to break the ice with Roland's family. She could take them some home-made lemon drizzle cake to go with the coffee.

Gently, she extracted herself from Roland's arms, shrugged on her dressing gown, crept out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door.

She'd just finished putting the hot lemon and sugar solution on the cake, letting it sink in, when Roland walked out of the bedroom.

‘Sorry—did I wake you with all the noise?' she asked.

‘No. But something smells amazing.'

‘I thought I could take some cake with us,' she said.

He wrapped his arms round her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Stop worrying. It'll be fine. But cake is good. You didn't make any spare, by any chance?'

‘You'd eat cake for breakfast?'

‘French family rules,' he said.

She laughed. ‘Made-up rules, more like.'

‘Busted.' He held her close. ‘Grace, it's going to be fine. I promise.'

He took her mind off things by having a shower with her.

But her nerves returned, doubled, when he drove them to his family home and she could see the enormous house at the end of the long drive.

‘Roland—this is a stately home!'

‘It's not open to the public. Well, the gardens will be and we're going to do teas and weddings, but...' He shrugged. ‘It's not a big deal.'

Yes, it was. She bit her lip. ‘Roland, I come from a very ordinary background—and I'm not like Bel. I'm not all bubbly and bouncy and easy to love.'

‘Your background is absolutely not an issue—and you're not ordinary, you're the woman I love,' he said firmly. ‘Yes, I know you're a bit shy and it takes time to get to know you—but you're more than worth getting to know, and my family's perceptive. They'll see that straight away.'

Grace, remembering Cynthia Sutton's judgemental sneer and her habit of muttering disapproving comments behind the swing of her perfect bob, wasn't so sure. By the time Roland opened the front door, she was feeling physically sick.

But then two dogs came romping down the hallway, barking madly, with their tails wagging nineteen to the dozen.

‘Morning, beasties. Coco's the poodle, after Chanel, and Napoleon's the basset hound,' Roland explained. ‘French dogs, French names, yada-yada-yada.'

Grace made a fuss of the dogs, who insisted on licking every bit of her they could reach.

‘Paws off the cake, beasties,' Roland said with a grin. ‘Most of that is mine.'

And then the hall was full of people. Roland introduced them swiftly.

‘Grace, these are my parents, Henry and Joanna; my brother Will and sister-in-law Susie; my sister Philly you've already met; and this is my niece, Matilda.'

‘Hello,' Grace said shyly, holding out a hand.

But, to her shock, instead of shaking her hand, they all hugged her in turn; and that included little Matilda.

This was so very different from Howard's family; and so much more like her own.

‘Coffee's ready,' Joanna said. ‘Would you prefer to sit in the drawing room or the kitchen, Grace?'

Grace looked to Roland for an answer, but his face was impassive.

‘The kitchen, please,' she said. ‘And, um, I made you some cake. I hope that's OK.' She handed the plastic box to Joanna.

‘Told you she was a keeper,' Philly said in a stage whisper.

‘Shut up, Philly,' Roland said, in the same stage whisper. ‘Sorry, Grace. But you've already met my sister. You know she's bossy.'

‘Runs in the family,' Philly retorted, and put her arm round Grace. ‘What kind of cake is it?'

‘Lemon drizzle.'

‘Yes! That makes you my new best friend,' Philly said with a grin.

‘Actually,' Joanna said, ‘I think the men should go and sit in the drawing room while we go and sort out cake and coffee in the kitchen.'

‘Good idea,' Susie said with a smile.

‘Hang on,' Roland began, his eyes widening. ‘No interrog...'

But it was too late. Joanna swept Grace off to the kitchen along with Philly, Susie and Matilda. When Roland came in to try and rescue her, his mother just waved him away and said, ‘This is a girls-only chat. Off you go, and close the door behind you.'

Roland gave Grace a helpless look, mouthed ‘sorry', and did as he was told.

‘We really are glad to meet you, Grace,' Joanna said, putting the cake on a plate. ‘And this smells gorgeous. Did you make it this morning?'

‘Yes. I, um—when I'm nervous, I bake,' Grace admitted.

‘And meeting all of us for the first time is pretty scary,' Susie said. ‘I remember what it feels like.'

‘Though it's not all of us for the first time. You already know me,' Philly pointed out.

‘And we feel we know you,' Joanna said, ‘because Philly's told us about you.'

‘There isn't actually that much to say about me,' Grace said. ‘I'm very ordinary.'

‘Tell us about you in your own words,' Susie invited.

This felt like a job interview, but she also knew that it was the most important interview she'd ever have in her life. If Roland's family couldn't accept her, then she'd fade out of his life—for his sake. ‘I'm an accountant, I have a clean driving licence and I like cooking,' Grace said. ‘I think that covers it.'

‘I think there's something quite important you forgot to say,' Joanna said quietly. ‘You've put the smile back into Roland's eyes. And to do that takes someone very out of the ordinary.'

‘Seconded,' Philly said promptly.

‘Thirded,' Susie added.

‘Fourthed,' Matilda said, beaming at her. ‘Can you make cupcakes, Grace? They're my favourite.'

‘Chocolate or vanilla?' Grace asked.

Matilda thought about it. ‘Both.'

Grace laughed. ‘Good choice. Yes.'

‘Are you going to marry Uncle Roland?'

Susie swept her daughter up and plonked her on her lap. ‘We're not supposed to ask that, sweet-pea.'

‘Why not? I like Grace. So does Coco. I think she should marry Uncle Roland and then I can be the flower girl at the wedding,' Matilda said.

Susie groaned. ‘I'm so sorry, Grace. She's obsessed with being a flower girl.'

‘My best friend's been a flower girl three times already,' Matilda confided, ‘and she's got a tiara with sparkly butterflies on it.'

‘That sounds lovely,' Grace said, smiling.

‘I think you should go and tell Daddy the cake's coming soon, Tilda,' Susie said, and Matilda slid off her lap and scampered out of the kitchen. ‘I really am sorry about that,' she said to Grace.

‘It's fine. Really,' Grace said.

‘Out of the mouths of babes,' Philly said with a grin.

Then it hit Grace. This wasn't anything like her first meeting with the Suttons. Roland was right. She hadn't been judged and found wanting. His family was eccentric and bossy—and utterly lovely. And it felt as if they'd already taken her to their hearts.

‘This,' she said, ‘feels exactly like my parents' kitchen would if I had a brother who'd brought a girlfriend home to meet them for the first time.'

‘Is that a good thing?' Joanna asked carefully.

Grace nodded. ‘Because, although I don't have a brother, I do have a mother and a sister I love very much. And the best stepfather in the world.'

‘That sounds good to me.' Joanna lifted her mug of coffee in a toast. ‘We really are pleased to meet you, Grace. And I'm sorry for the interrogation.'

‘No, we're not,' Philly admitted, not looking in the slightest bit abashed.

‘Of course you're not,' Grace said, laughing back. ‘Just as I wouldn't be in your shoes.'

‘If it's any consolation, they did it to me, too,' Susie said, giving her a hug. ‘And they're all right, this Devereux lot.'

The ice was well and truly broken then—especially when they re-joined the others in the drawing room and everyone tasted Grace's cake. ‘You're officially in charge of cake from now on,' Will said. ‘And we are so going to pick your brains for tea room suggestions.'

‘Yes—Roland ought to show you the boathouse after lunch and tell you what he's planned,' Henry added. ‘He can explain them better than any of us can.'

‘Actually, I have new plans,' Roland said. ‘I know exactly how we can make ourselves stand out for the wedding business.'

Grace had a feeling she knew what was coming next, and hid a smile.

‘We could,' he suggested, ‘build a folly. A mini-Pantheon.'

Merciless teasing followed.

‘This lot has no vision,' he sighed theatrically. ‘Grace, tell them you think it's a great idea.'

‘I think I'll stick with what you said originally,' she said. ‘In two hundred years' time, visitors to the house will be told that you were Roland the Mad Architect.'

‘She's got your number, little brother,' Will said with a grin.

After lunch—and after Grace had absolutely insisted on being allowed to help with the washing up—Roland took Grace out to the boathouse and explained what they were planning to do.

‘It's got the perfect outlook,' she said. ‘And you're right. That wall of glass will give a spectacular view of the lake.'

On the way back to the house, he took her on a detour into the rose garden.

‘Oh, now this is pretty,' she said in delight. ‘And I've never smelled anything so lovely.'

‘You'd need Philly to talk you through all the names and their history,' he said. ‘But.' He paused by the sundial. ‘You've met my family now.'

‘Yes.'

‘Do you like them?'

She smiled. ‘They're lovely. And they remind me a lot of my family.'

‘Good.' He paused. ‘I know I said I'd give you time to think—but I really hate waiting. I'm sure that my life with you will be good. And, now you've met my family, I hope all your fears are set to rest, too.'

‘They are,' she said.

He took something from his pocket and dropped to one knee. ‘Grace. I love you. Will you marry me?' He opened the box and held it out to her.

Set on a bed of purple velvet was the prettiest ring she'd ever seen: a solitaire diamond set in a star-shaped mount.

‘A star,' he said, ‘because you're
ma belle étoile
. And I really, really love you.'

Grace swallowed hard.

She'd asked him for time. But she didn't need it any more. ‘I love you, too. Yes,' she whispered.

He slid the engagement ring onto her finger, then stood up, picked her up, whirled her round, and then kissed her until she was dizzy.

‘I hope you're prepared for what happens next, because my family have a really bad habit of taking over,' he said.

‘I'm with you, so I can be brave.' She smiled. ‘Bring it on.'

It took Matilda all of five seconds to spot the difference when they walked in. ‘Your hand—it's all sparkly!' she said in delight. ‘Oh—it's a ring. And it's like a star!'

And Roland slid his arm round Grace's shoulders, clearly enjoying the spectacle of seeing his closest family stunned into silence. ‘This has to be a first,' he said, laughing.

Everything suddenly went high-octane, with everyone talking at once.

‘So when's the wedding? And it has to be here—every Devereux gets married here,' Will said.

‘I have a friend who makes amazing dresses,' Susie said.

‘
Croquembouche.
We need a proper
croquembouche
wedding cake,' Henry said. ‘With sparklers. Lots of sparklers.'

‘The flowers are mine, all mine,' Philly said, rubbing her hands together. ‘I can't wait to make you the most beautiful bridal bouquet in the world.'

‘And I can be the flower girl and have a sparkly tiara with butterflies!' Matilda crowed happily.

‘Wait,' Joanna said, walking into the middle of the room and holding her hands up for silence, for all the world like a headmistress in the middle of a noisy assembly hall.

Grace felt her stomach drop. Had she made the wrong decision? Would Joanna feel the same way that Cynthia had—that Grace wasn't good enough for her son?

‘Listen, you lot. I know this is the best news ever, but we have to remember that it's Grace and Roland's day,' Joanna said quietly. ‘
They're
the ones who make the decisions, not us. And we are absolutely not talking wedding plans without Grace's family being part of those discussions.'

So very unlike the way the Suttons had seen things, Grace thought with relief.

‘OK. We'll have a planning meeting tomorrow—or as soon as Grace's family can get here,' Will said.

Roland coughed. ‘Did you not hear what Mum said? And I agree. It's Grace's choice.'

Everyone stopped and looked at her.

They all wanted to be involved in her wedding, Grace realised. Not because they wanted to take over, the way that Howard's family had, but because they wanted to be part of it and make her and Roland's day truly special.

BOOK: Holiday with the Best Man
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