Their Engagement is Announced Page 5

  Time and time again in the last few weeks, since she had sent off her letter of acceptance, Dora had been on the point of picking up the telephone and telling Charlotte she couldn’t be at the wedding after all. But while she had known Charlotte might accept her refusal, she had known that Griffin most certainly wouldn’t. And the last thing she’d wanted was another personal call from him, either to the shop or her home. She didn’t feel she’d handled his last visit too well, and she had known that her protestations about attending the wedding would be in vain, anyway; Griffin just refused to accept no for an answer!

  And so she’d struggled through the last four weeks without telephoning Charlotte, had even taken Griffin’s advice not to wear black today. Although she had changed her clothes several times, before settling for the tan-coloured dress matched with the cream jacket, leaving her hair loose about her shoulders and her make-up light.

  She looked cool and elegant; she was definitely Isadora today. And with one look at Griffin in the formal morning suit as he’d stood on her doorstep twenty minutes ago, she’d known she had to be the ‘cool’ Isadora today!

  ‘I’m sure it’s going to be a wonderful day,’ she said lightly in dismissive response to his impatient remark. ‘Charlotte will make a beautiful bride.’ Like all the Sinclair children, Charlotte was extremely attractive.

  ‘It is, and she will,’ Griffin returned dryly. ‘Now, would you kindly stop digging your nails into the edge of your seat? You’ll mark the leather!’

  Dora instantly moved her hands self-consciously into her lap, shooting Griffin an irritated glance as he chuckled softly beside her. ‘I’m just a little nervous…’

  ‘I would never have guessed!’ He grinned at her before turning his attention back to the road, driving the sports car with easy familiarity.

  Dora hadn’t known, when they were at Dungelly Court two years ago, what sort of car he drove, but it had come as no surprise to her, when she’d met him again almost a year later, to find that he opted for powerful sports cars.

  Charles had driven a Jaguar saloon, much more in keeping with his own image as an up-and-coming politician…

  ‘It’s all right for you to laugh, Griffin.’ She frowned across at him. ‘Personally, I would rather be going to the dentist to have all my teeth extracted than going to this wedding!’ Especially with you, she could have added, but didn’t. Because she knew damn well that Griffin would try to make something of it if she did!

  As far as the rest of the Sinclair family were concerned, including Charles when he was alive, she and Griffin had met for the first time the evening she’d been introduced to him as Charles’s finacée. Not by word or deed had either of them ever betrayed the fact that they were already acquainted with each other.

  It had been as if by unspoken agreement that the two of them had met that evening a year ago as if they were complete strangers. Although Dora had known by the determined glint in Griffin’s eyes that he would have a lot more to say on the subject when they were alone together!

  And he had; he’d been mockingly derisive of her choice of his brother for her future husband. Although, to give Griffin his due, he’d never told Charles, or any other member of his family as far as she was aware, that the two of them had once spent an enjoyable flirtatious evening together. Or that he had kissed her!

  ‘Personally—’ he grimaced now ‘—so would I! Weddings bring me out in an allergic rash!’

  She had guessed that two years ago, had known then that Griffin wasn’t the marrying kind. But she most certainly was; she’d always wanted a husband, and children of her own. Although she wasn’t so sure that would ever happen now…

  Griffin shrugged. ‘Unfortunately someone has to give the bride away, and as I’m the only male in the family eligible to do that, I’m doing it!’

  Dora’s eyes widened in dismay at this statement. In all the days and weeks she’d been dreading attending this wedding, she hadn’t considered that Griffin, as her partner for the day, wouldn’t be at her side during the whole thing. But of course he was going to give the bride away; so where did that leave her, Dora, during the course of the ceremony, and indeed during the wedding reception afterwards?

  ‘We’re going to the house so that you can drive to the church in the car with my mother.’ Griffin lightly answered her panicked thoughts. ‘You’re sitting next to her in the church, too.’

  Dora swallowed hard, gripping her hands tightly together in her lap. This was just getting worse and worse by the minute!

  ‘Let’s face it,’ Griffin added derisively at Dora’s stunned silence, ‘someone has to sit next to her!’

  But why Dora?

  Griffin might find all this very amusing, but Dora had only ever found Margaret Sinclair daunting, to say the least, even when she’d expected to be the other woman’s daughter-in-law! As a complete outsider now that Charles was dead, she didn’t stand a chance against the other woman’s cold condescending manner.

  ‘Does she know?’ Dora prompted reluctantly. ‘That I’m to be there at all, I mean?’

  Griffin relaxed back in his car seat, long hands easily steering the wheel. ‘Now would I be so unkind as not to have mentioned it?’ he taunted. ‘Unkind to you, I mean,’ he added dryly.

  ‘In a word—yes!’ Dora came back knowingly. ‘It’s just the sort of thing that would appeal to your warped sense of humour!’

  ‘My warped sense of humour?’ He gave her a sardonic glance. ‘Who was the one responsible for setting that elderly lady on me at the bookshop last month?’

  Dora couldn’t help smiling at the memory. ‘I knew you could handle it,’ she dismissed. ‘If it hadn’t been for the objection of her husband, I think she would have taken you home with her!’

  ‘There was only one woman I would have consented to go home with that day—and you weren’t asking! No, don’t stop smiling, Izzy,’ he instructed impatiently as she did exactly that. ‘You have a lovely smile,’ he continued chidingly. ‘And there’s no longer a reason why you can’t smile at me,’ he added huskily.

  Now that Charles, her fiancé, was dead? But that had never been the reason she wouldn’t smile on him in the past—she hadn’t even known Charles when she and Griffin had first met. The truth of the matter was she and Griffin were too unalike; she was quiet and hard-working, while Griffin was wild and irresponsible.

  She turned away to look out the side window of the car, although she actually saw none of the pleasant Hampshire countryside; she was too disturbed by Griffin’s close proximity, and the things he’d just said, to be aware of anything else but him. And she didn’t want to be aware of Griffin. Even if she had once—very briefly!—believed herself half in love with him!

  ‘How are the alterations going at the shop?’

  Dora looked at him blankly for several seconds, surprised—if somewhat relieved!—at the sudden change of subject. ‘Slowly,’ she finally answered him uncomfortably.

  The shopfitters were due to come in next week, and she still felt nervous every time she thought of the changes she intended making there. Mainly because they were changes she knew her father, if he’d still been alive, would never have agreed to…

  Griffin nodded—as if he understood only too well the reason for her nervousness. ‘Have you bought yourself a television set yet?’ he teased.

  She’d been tempted, in the weeks since she had learnt that this man had his own television show. But, strangely enough, that was also the reason she had managed to resist the impulse. She’d made a fool of herself over Griffin once, and had been haunted by the man and his kisses for months afterwards; she did not intend doing it again—even by watching him on television alone in the privacy of her own home!

  She had learnt, when she’d entered the Sinclair family as Charles’s fiancée, that everything she had suspected about Griffin that evening at Dungelly Court—the women, the wild lifestyle—was true. Griffin was most definitely the black sheep of the family—everything she had ever shied awa
y from, in fact. He was a womaniser, a wastrel, and had no use for his family whatsoever.

  She had firmly pushed to the back of her mind the fact that he was also the most exciting man she’d ever met in her life!

  ‘I start filming my second series next week,’ Griffin informed her softly—seeming once again to be aware of at least some of her thoughts.

  ‘That will be nice for you,’ she said uninterestedly. ‘And your mother…?’ she added pointedly.

  He laughed huskily. ‘You never give an inch, do you, Izzy?’ he said appreciatively. ‘I’m not sure Charles really knew what he was getting when he became engaged to you!’ He gave a rueful shake of his head.

  Dora stiffened. ‘I had every intention of being a good wife to him,’ she returned stiltedly.

  ‘Izzy, even the best intentions can fall far short of reality,’ Griffin taunted.

  ‘I have asked you repeatedly to stop calling me Izzy!’ There were two angry spots of colour in her cheeks now. She was furious. Although she wasn’t quite sure why. Because Griffin had mocked her ability to be a good wife to Charles? Or because she feared he might have been right…?

  Charles had been everything she could ever have wished or hoped for in a future husband: good-looking, hardworking, ambitious. But, as a result, he had also lacked a little excitement. She had cared for Charles very much, and she’d been sure they would have a happy married life together. And her father had approved of him…

  If Charles hadn’t died, they would have been married by now. They might even have been expecting the child they had planned to have as soon as they were husband and wife…

  Her anger faded as quickly as it had erupted, and she suddenly found herself on the brink of tears instead.

  ‘What the hell—?’ Griffin turned the car wheel sharply, bringing the car to a halt on the side of the road before turning in his seat to look at her. ‘Why the hell are you crying, Izzy?’ he rasped incredulously.

  ‘Why do you think?’ she cried accusingly. ‘The man I was to have married hasn’t been dead a year yet, and—’

  ‘Tell me about it!’ Griffin muttered disparagingly, obviously thinking of the battle they had had with his mother over the timing of Charlotte’s wedding.

  ‘And you as good as say I wouldn’t have made him a good wife, anyway!’ Dora continued, as if he hadn’t interrupted her. ‘Just what I wanted to hear, today of all days!’ She began to cry in earnest now, although she was inwardly aware that there was more than a little self-pity in her tears.

  A year ago she had been an engaged woman, on the brink of marriage herself. And her father had been alive then, too. In just eleven months she had lost the two most important men in her life.

  And what did she have in their stead? This devil of a man who sat beside her now, a man who teased and tormented her at every opportunity!

  Griffin’s arms were about her now, as he pulled her to him and buried her face against his neck. ‘All I was trying to say was that you can’t make people happy, Izzy,’ he told her gruffly. ‘I wasn’t getting at you; it was Charles’s self-centred nature I was questioning. You— What did you say?’ he prompted as she muttered something against the hard column of his throat.

  ‘I said—’ She raised her head to glare at him. ‘I said…’ Her words trailed off as she realised exactly how close they were, with Griffin looking down at her with protective tenderness. Neither was a quality she wanted to associate with this man, and especially not now!

  She swallowed hard, her breath caught somewhere in her throat as she looked into the depths of those luminous eyes.

  Griffin returned the intensity of her gaze, his face only inches away from hers. ‘You know, Izzy,’ he finally said huskily, ‘when you’re physically aroused, a black ring appears on the edge of the iris of your eyes. I wonder…’ he added softly. ‘I wonder if Charles ever knew that…?’

  The full significance of his words took several seconds to penetrate her temporarily befuddled brain. But once they did she pulled angrily away from him, her tears forgotten as she glared the width of the car at him.

  How dared he? How dared he imply that Charles had never seen her physically aroused? Griffin knew nothing of her relationship with Charles. Nothing!

  She was filled with self-reproach for her moments of weakness. Griffin was a man who accepted no limits, no barriers, not even those of decency. She had been going to marry his brother, his brother who had died, and yet Griffin seemed to make such a mockery of it all.

  She turned sharply away from his eyes. ‘You aren’t a nice man, Griffin,’ she told him coldly, wishing he would restart the car now, so that they could be on their way.

  To her relief that was exactly what he did, manoeuvring the car back into the flow of traffic before speaking again. ‘I’m going to take your last remark as a compliment, Izzy,’ he drawled.

  He would!

  She was twenty-six years old, and yet this man reduced her to the actions and thoughts of a juvenile!

  She shook her head in self-disgust. ‘Could we just call a truce for today, Griffin?’ she said wearily.

  ‘Truce?’ He quirked one brow wryly, driving the car with his previous ease.

  Dora sighed. ‘As in pretending that we actually like each other!’ This whole scenario was difficult enough, without having to deal with Griffin’s taunts all day as well!

  He shrugged. ‘You can pretend if you have to, Izzy. As for me, I’ve always liked you.’

  Always? As in from when they had first met at Dungelly Court…?

  ‘Actually, that’s not strictly true,’ he added thoughtfully, causing Dora to look at him sharply. He looked grim. ‘I didn’t like you very much the day you were introduced to me as Charles’ fiancée,’ he explained reprovingly.

  She grimaced. ‘Not good enough, hmm?’

  ‘Totally unsuitable,’ Griffin snapped. ‘Charles was just a younger version of your father—’

  ‘Stop it, Griffin!’ She cut in firmly—before he could launch into another round of insults concerning her father! Admittedly he had been a hard man, not given to shows of emotion where his only child was concerned, but he hadn’t always been like that. When her mother had been alive the house had been full of love and laughter; it had only been after her premature death that Dora’s father had seemed to close in on himself and become so unapproachable. ‘I meant that I wasn’t good enough for Charles,’ she firmly corrected Griffin.

  ‘He wasn’t fit to kiss your shoes,’ Griffin rasped harshly. ‘Let alone the feet inside them!’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Why the hell is it that women invariably choose a replica of their father for their life partner?’ he muttered, as if to himself. ‘What was your mother like, Izzy?’ He frowned.

  ‘Griffin—’

  ‘Come on, Izzy, humour me,’ he encouraged lightly. ‘Tell me about your mother.’

  She drew in a sharp breath. Humouring him was definitely the right way to describe his request; her mother had been dead ten years now, and Dora still missed her…

  ‘She was beautiful,’ Dora told him.

  ‘I already knew that bit,’ he dismissed impatiently.

  Her eyes were wide. ‘How could you possibly—?’

  ‘It’s a sure fact that you didn’t get your looks from your father!’ he cut in scathingly. ‘So consequently it has to have been your mother!’

  Dora knew there was a compliment in that statement somewhere, no matter how aggressively it had been given, but there was also yet another insult towards her father…

  ‘We’ll have to save this conversation for another time,’ Griffin muttered before she could form an answer. ‘I hope you’re ready for this,’ he added grimly as he turned the Jaguar on to the long gravel driveway that led up to the Sinclair home.

  It was a long, imposing drive, leading to an equally imposing house made of grey stone, its symmetrical windows looking out blankly at the extensive gardens.

  And, no, Dora wasn’t ‘ready fo
r this’; she wasn’t sure she ever would be. She had found the Sinclair home, the Sinclair family, intimidating enough when she had come here as Charles’s fiancée; as she wasn’t sure under what circumstances she’d come here today, she found the whole concept terrifying!

  Griffin glanced at her briefly, grinning grimly. ‘Don’t worry, Izzy; she’s my mother—and I don’t want to see her, either!’

  Dora gasped. ‘I didn’t say—’

  ‘You couldn’t see the expression on your face!’ Griffin chuckled, parking the car before getting out to come round and open Dora’s door for her. ‘Just remember, you’re doing this for Charlotte and Stuart,’ he added seriously, taking a firm grip of her arm. ‘My mother is totally irrelevant.’

  Margaret Sinclair could never be classified as ‘irrelevant’! And, when they entered the family sitting room a few minutes later, Dora knew today was going to be no exception.

  The last eleven months had not been kind to Margaret, her elegant slenderness having become unattractively so, the cool beauty of her face now lined beneath the perfection of her make-up, the darkness of her hair sprinkled with grey.

  But, even so, she was still every inch the matriarch as she lifted her cheek coolly for Griffin’s punctilious if dutiful kiss, before turning her attention to Dora. Dora felt herself stiffen under that penetrating gaze.

  ‘Dora,’ Margaret greeted her, a sharp edge to her voice. ‘How smart you look.’

  A year ago Margaret would have made that remark and meant it about the woman she had approved of as a wife for her eldest son, having already assured herself before the engagement was announced that Dora’s background was impeccable, her morals equally so, and that she brought no baggage along with her that could possibly damage Charles’s political career.

  But now the compliment didn’t sound so much perfunctory as bordering on insulting. Because Dora had arrived with Griffin…? Or was it just that Margaret didn’t like the pressure that had been brought to bear on her concerning today’s wedding? Whichever it was, Dora felt more uncomfortable than ever.