Their Engagement is Announced Page 7

  But it was worth her promise just to see the way Charlotte cheered up, once again looking like the glowing bride.

  Griffin was scowling darkly when she returned down the stairs, and his mother was coolly aloof, confirming the belief she’d had earlier that the two of them had been about to have an argument when she’d left them.

  Was Margaret really planning to try and manipulate Griffin into politics…? It was the most ridiculous idea Dora had ever heard in her life.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Margaret was looking across the room at her, coldly, dispassionately, as if she were a bug the other woman would like to squash.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘SO WHAT do you intend doing with your life now, Dora?’

  Dora turned from looking out of the car window to the woman seated beside her on the back seat of the white limousine, once again struck by the deepened lines in Margaret’s aristocratic face. And, from the way her hands were clasped tightly together on her lap, she was far from as relaxed as she wished to appear. Admittedly it was her only daughter’s wedding day, but in the past Margaret had seemed to take most things in her stride. Obviously no more.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Dora shook her head, giving a faint smile. ‘I don’t understand what you mean?’ At the moment she was just getting on with her life one day at a time, dealing with individual problems as they presented themselves. Including today!

  ‘It seems to me, my dear, that so far you’ve been very careless with the men in your life,’ Margaret drawled, pleasantly enough. ‘First dear Charles, and now your father… I merely wondered in which direction, and with whom, you intended going next?’

  Charles dying in a car accident and her father from a heart-attack almost a year later were hardly her fault, let alone due to carelessness!

  She looked searchingly at the other woman. Margaret’s eyes glittered despite the pleasant smile that curved her lips. And Dora knew in that moment that somehow she had made an enemy of this woman; not a good idea in the circumstances. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before they reached the church and she could at least escape the confines of this car!

  It had been a mistake to come here today, as Dora had known it would be. Although not in quite the way she’d imagined… She had thought that Griffin would be her main problem today—and now all she wished was that he were here beside her instead of Margaret!

  ‘By your presence here today, a Saturday,’ Margaret continued in a bored voice, ‘I take it you’re no longer running the bookshop. So I—’

  ‘Oh, but I am,’ Dora put in with some relief. ‘It’s just that it’s closed at the moment, for refurbishment.’ That fact had effectively taken away her one valid argument for not being here today. And she hadn’t been able to come up with another one that sounded in the least plausible. She wished now that she had just lied her way out of being here, and to hell with it!

  ‘Really?’ Margaret raised dark brows. ‘What do you intend doing with it—turning it into a ladies’ fashion shop—something like that?’

  She drew in a deep breath at the other woman’s unmistakable derision. ‘I’m just redecorating,’ she dismissed, relieved to see they were now approaching the church.

  A pretty village church. The same church where she and Charles had planned on being married…

  Strange, but she felt nothing as she looked at the grey stone building, the churchyard ablaze with spring flowers. Her brief relationship and engagement to Charles, had taken on a dream-like quality these last months, making her wonder if it had happened at all.

  One look at Margaret’s frosty expression as she looked at her told Dora that it certainly had! And, while the other woman might have once accepted her as her future daughter-in-law, as Charles’s intended wife, she certainly didn’t accept her presence here now. No doubt with Margaret’s own initial objections to the wedding, because she felt the timing of it was disrespectful to Charles’s memory, the other woman felt that Dora shouldn’t be here for the same reason. And especially not with Griffin…!

  ‘Come along, my dear.’ Margaret had got out of the limousine and joined Dora on the pathway that led up to the church. ‘We must show a united front,’ she added disgustedly.

  ‘United’ was the last thing the two women were. Although to give Margaret her due, she gave every impression that that was exactly what they were, her arm linked with Dora’s as she greeted people to the left and right of them as they strolled down the aisle on their way to their seat at the front of the church.

  Dora was such a bundle of nerves by the time they reached their pew that she was just glad to be able to sit down, her legs shaking. She felt as if everyone were staring at her—and wondering what on earth she was doing here. It was a sure fact, despite her gracious introductions to old acquaintances, that Margaret would rather she were a hundred miles away from this particular spot.

  And Dora was slowly coming to realise it had nothing to do with her once having been Charles’ fiancée, that her antagonism was everything to do with Griffin having brought her here today. Charlotte was right; her mother was up to something. And at the moment Dora felt caught in the crossfire!

  Charlotte looked stunning as she walked slowly down the aisle to her future husband, but it was to the man walking assuredly at her side that Dora’s gaze drifted…

  Griffin looked magnificent. Tall, blond, extremely powerful in the well-fitting morning suit, he was a fitting substitute for his late father.

  And just as he and the bride drew level with the pew where Dora sat beside Margaret, he turned his head slightly and gave Dora a conspiratorial wink.

  It happened so quickly and was so unexpected that for a moment Dora thought she must have imagined it. When she looked at Griffin again he gave no sign that he’d even glanced her way, let alone winked at her!

  But then she saw Margaret’s stony profile as the other woman stared rigidly ahead, and knew she’d imagined nothing…

  Damn him! It was bad enough being here at all, without Griffin giving anyone—least of all his mother!—the impression he was, or ever had been, any more to her than Charles’s younger brother. Because he hadn’t, and never would be, despite those few brief hours they had spent together two years ago…

  The marriage service seemed to go on for ever, and the photographs outside afterwards seemed even longer, all the guests milling around outside too as they watched the photographs being taken. Everyone looked happy, it seemed to Dora—it was only she who couldn’t wait for an opportunity to slip away!

  And when it came she took it, hurrying off down the pathway, lost amongst the rest of the guests making their way to their cars in preparation for driving to the reception at a local hotel.

  ‘And just where do you think you’re going?’ Fingers closed implacably about one of Dora’s arms even as the question was asked.

  She turned to look up at Griffin, a look of desperation on her face. ‘I’ve given Charlotte my best wishes, I’ve attended the wedding, and now I’m going home!’

  Griffin’s mouth tightened. ‘I would never have thought you capable of having such bad manners as running out on me,’ he taunted dryly. ‘Although, as I remember,’ he added tightly, ‘you did it once before…’

  ‘I…’ Her protest died in her throat as she realised what ‘once before’ he was referring to.

  He was talking of the morning she had left Dungelly Court two years ago. She had set her alarm for seven o’clock, had forgone breakfast so that she could check out by seven-thirty. She had hoped that by leaving that early she wouldn’t run the risk of meeting Griffin Sinclair again. And she hadn’t. She hadn’t seen him again until six months later, when she had already become Charles’s fiancée.

  ‘Exactly,’ Griffin said with satisfaction as the colour slowly heated her cheeks. ‘That was bad enough, but today you’re actually my official partner!’

  ‘I am not,’ she told him indignantly. ‘I—’

  ‘Who delivered your invitation?’ Gr
iffin arched blond eyebrows pointedly. ‘Who brought you here?’ he continued before she could answer.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Who are you sitting next to during the wedding meal?’ he fired at her with satisfaction.

  Dora looked up at him with unbelieving eyes. Not Griffin! She glanced across to where his mother now stood in conversation with Charlotte and Stuart. No wonder Margaret was so annoyed with her; she must believe she was after Griffin now!

  ‘Forget about my mother,’ he rasped as he followed her gaze, his hand tightening on her arm. ‘I’ve never asked her permission or approval for anything I do—and I’m not about to start now!’ he added harshly.

  He might not be, but Dora was still very conscious of the things his mother had said to her in the car earlier…

  ‘What is it?’ Griffin demanded sharply, frowning darkly as he saw the reluctance on her face. ‘What has my mother been saying to you?’ he demanded grimly.

  She wasn’t about to repeat what Margaret had said to her to anyone, let alone Griffin. She still had trouble herself coming to terms with what had almost amounted to an accusation from Margaret that Dora was a jinx upon the men she loved. It had been a vindictive and ridiculous accusation at the very least.

  But perhaps to Margaret, who had loved her eldest son so much, it made perfect sense…

  ‘Is your mother quite well, Griffin?’ Dora ventured slowly, not sure what she was thinking, only that Margaret’s behaviour wasn’t completely rational.

  But, after all, the only contact she’d had with Margaret in the past had been as Charles’s future wife: a well-connected, quiet, unobtrusive young lady. In that guise she had been perfectly acceptable to Margaret and had been treated with graciousness and warmth. But perhaps Margaret’s manner towards her today, when she saw Dora with Griffin, was the real Margaret…?

  She shrugged. ‘After all, it is her only daughter’s wedding day. Your mother is probably just a little over-anxious with all the arrangements—’

  ‘I asked what she’s been saying to you, Izzy?’ Griffin cut in forcefully. ‘You may just as well tell me,’ he advised as she still hesitated. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to go and ask her.’ He shrugged.

  And Margaret would just make light of her remarks in the car, would probably imply that Dora was the one over-reacting. And maybe she was..

  ‘It isn’t important, Griffin. It really isn’t,’ she insisted firmly as he still scowled. ‘And I think I should point out to you that we’re causing a traffic-jam!’ she added lightly. The other guests were casting them curious glances as they passed, their conversation obviously intense.

  Griffin barely glanced at the people strolling past. ‘I don’t give a damn—’

  ‘But I do.’ She put her hand in the crook of his arm, turning him so that they were walking in the same direction down the pathway as everyone else. ‘And I’m not sure it’s exactly proper for the man giving the bride away to wink at one of the congregation on his way past!’ she teased, in the hope of changing the subject.

  Griffin certainly did look less dour as he grinned down at her. ‘When was I ever ‘‘proper’’?’

  Never. Not that she could remember, anyway. She had never known him to bring the same woman home twice during her engagement to Charles, and his manner, as a general rule, was disrespectful on almost every subject.

  ‘Besides,’ he added huskily, opening the car door for her with a flourish, ‘I don’t consider you just ‘‘one of the congregation’’!’

  She wasn’t about to ask him what he considered her to be. She knew what his mother considered her to be, and for the moment that was enough.

  ‘Oh, come on, Dora,’ he encouraged softly as she made no effort to get into the car. ‘If you stay you will at least save me from these eligible women my mother keeps thrusting at me in the hopes of finding me a ‘‘suitable’’ wife!’

  Dora looked up at him blankly. His mother was trying to find him a wife? Griffin? What on earth for? But as Dora recalled what both Margaret and Charlotte had said earlier, she realised exactly why…

  Griffin married? It should be laughable. And yet somehow, Dora realised, she didn’t find it in the least funny…

  She kept her face averted as she got into the back of the white limousine. Although she turned to Griffin in surprise as, with his mother safely settled in the front seat, he climbed into the back of the car beside her!

  A ‘deathly silence’ probably best described the atmosphere in the car on the way to the hotel where the reception was to be held. Margaret kept her face staring stonily ahead, and the brief glance Dora gave Griffin showed him grinning widely, obviously enjoying himself immensely.

  He would, Dora acknowledged crossly. ‘Light the blue touch-paper and stand well back’ seemed to be the way Griffin operated. And her presence here today was certainly creating fireworks inside Margaret Sinclair, even if externally she was remaining coolly aloof.

  Which led Dora to wonder if her presence here today, so obviously as Griffin’s partner, was as accidental as it had at first appeared to be…

  ‘Who is it you would like to hit?’ Griffin had moved closer to her on the back seat of the car, whispering close to her ear now, his arm along the back of her seat as he looked down pointedly at her clenched fists in her lap.

  ‘You!’ she snapped back at him, conscious of his mother sitting only feet away. Although Margaret looked as if she were unaware of the two of them, acting deaf to their conversation, Dora felt sure that the other woman really wasn’t.

  ‘Me?’ Griffin ducked back in surprise at the vehemence of her reply. ‘What did I do?’

  He just was, Dora realised frustratedly. And, while it might have hurt her slightly in the past that out of all the Sinclair family only Charlotte had kept in touch with her after Charles’s death, Griffin was the last member of the family Dora wanted anything to do with. And after today that included Margaret as well!

  ‘Never mind,’ Dora muttered, ever conscious of the listening Margaret seated in the front of the car…‘We’ll talk about it later,’ she dismissed.

  ‘Promises, promises,’ Griffin murmured in a dry, disbelieving tone. ‘I’ve already learnt—only too well!—that with you there isn’t a ‘‘later’’!’

  She turned a furious grey gaze on him. ‘Don’t flirt with me, Griffin,’ she breathed warningly. ‘I’m not in the mood!’

  He grinned unconcernedly. ‘Save that excuse for when you’re married,’ he drawled suggestively.

  Her indignant gasp was lost as they arrived outside the hotel, once again becoming caught up in the bustle of the other guests as they all surged into the reception area.

  But that didn’t stop her thoughts.

  She had decided, after Charles’s unexpected death, that she probably wouldn’t ever be married, and men hadn’t exactly been beating a path to her door over the last few months. There had been a few dinner dates with Sam, a man more interested in his career than a relationship, so those didn’t really count.

  Besides, women didn’t really use that phrase ‘I’m not in the mood’ once they were married, did they…?

  Charlotte and Stuart were already waiting to greet their guests as they entered the reception room. Dora stood in line next to Griffin as they gave the happy couple their good wishes.

  ‘Don’t let me keep you,’ Dora told Griffin dismissively once they had moved further into the room and been given a glass of champagne to drink.

  ‘You know, Izzy…’ He gave her a considering look over the rim of his champagne glass. ‘This eagerness you have to not spend time in my company could give me a complex!’

  Dora sipped her champagne, looking curiously around the room and recognising several familiar faces. ‘I doubt it,’ she answered him dryly. ‘Your ego is irrepressible! Besides which, I’m sure you must have other things you should be doing; you are part of the main wedding party, after all!’

  ‘I’ve given my only sister away to a deserving man�
��I consider my duty done for the day,’ Griffin told her grimly.

  Dora gave him a searching look. ‘Charlotte seems—concerned about you,’ she ventured casually.

  ‘I’m told it’s a symptom of every newly married woman—they want to see everyone else as happy as they supposedly are!’ he dismissed disgustedly.

  ‘I think you’re deliberately misunderstanding me, Griffin.’ Dora returned his gaze steadily. ‘Charlotte is obviously worried about you, and from some things your mother said to me earlier I think perhaps Charlotte is right to feel the way that she does.’

  ‘You didn’t say anything to Charlotte, did you?’ Griffin put in sharply, tightly gripping the top of one of Dora’s arms.

  Luckily not the one holding the glass of champagne. Although Griffin didn’t look as if he cared one way or the other, intent only on her answer.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ she answered him slowly. ‘But I think perhaps you should have done so!’

  He released Dora abruptly, turning away, looking across to where his sister was happily greeting her guests, her new husband at her side. ‘The wedding today would never have taken place if Charlotte had guessed what my mother is up to,’ he muttered grimly.

  Dora wished she knew exactly what his mother was ‘up to’. As it was, she just knew that Griffin had made some sort of deal with his mother, a deal which was obviously the reason Margaret had become so compliant about Charlotte’s wedding.

  But how was that deal going to affect Griffin’s own life? And exactly what sort of deal was it? Moving back to live in the family home was obviously one condition, but what about the political career that had been hinted at, and the ‘eligible women’ his mother was pushing at him, obviously with a view to marriage? Was Griffin going to be agreeable to that too?

  ‘Griffin—’

  ‘Just leave it, Izzy,’ he ordered abruptly. ‘Let Charlotte have her day; I’ll sort the other details out later.’