Читать книгу Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife - Элли Блейк, Ally Blake - Страница 12

COLD and sick and shattered, Tina stood stricken, unable to move, knowing how Mag must have felt.

In her ears was his voice saying, ‘Who said anything about a one-night stand or casual sex? Neither the way I feel about you, nor my intentions are in any way casual’…And, fool that she was, she had believed his lies.

Unless he was planning on having an ongoing affair after he was married?

Well, if he was, she thought bitterly, he could count her out.

When she had recovered enough to move, her first impulse was to run and hide. To leave his home and never see him again. But she had no way of leaving unless she could find a phone and call for a taxi.

There must be phones at the castle but, apart from the one in the library-cum-study that Richard had used the previous night, she hadn’t noticed any. Perhaps, like the television, they were hidden away.

But all that was beside the point; she needed her own mobile. So somehow she had to face him, to tell him she was leaving. But if she wanted to go with some shred of pride intact, she had, somehow, to hide just how shattered she felt.

On legs that trembled so much they would scarcely carry her, she made her way across the hall to the study. As she was passing the living-room door, which was a little ajar, she heard Richard’s voice and, pausing, once again found herself eavesdropping on a phone conversation.

‘As the time factor is of overriding importance,’ he was saying, ‘there isn’t a moment to lose—’

Only it wasn’t a phone conversation, she realised a second later, as a woman’s voice broke in, ‘But surely it’s already too late. It just can’t be done in the time.’

‘It can be done,’ Richard insisted quietly. ‘In fact the arrangements are already in place.’

Feeling like death, lacking the will to walk away, Tina listened dully to the argument.

‘There must be some other way,’ the woman insisted shrilly. ‘You’re not short of money; couldn’t you—?’

‘That was my first thought, but money isn’t necessarily the answer. I don’t know for sure what I’m up against, and by the time I do know it’ll be too late.’

‘But Richard—’ It was a wail.

‘It’s no use, Helen, I simply can’t afford to chance doing it any other way…’

Helen…Helen O’Connell. So it was his future wife he was talking to.

‘It’s only too easy to be held to ransom and drained dry. But once I’m in a position of strength, my money can be used to greater effect.’

‘But it’s so…so drastic.’

‘I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’m satisfied that it’s by far the safest option.’

‘What do you suppose will happen when—?’

‘There’s bound to be a backlash of course,’ he broke in a trifle curtly, ‘but I’ll deal with that as and when it happens.’

‘Well, I think you’re making a dreadful mistake.’ Then, with a flare of hope, ‘You could always fight it through the courts.’

‘I considered that, of course, but it might take years and, as things stand at present, there’s no guarantee I’d win.’

‘But have you considered the ethics of it?’

‘You mean two wrongs don’t make a right?’ he suggested a shade grimly. ‘Oh, yes, I’ve considered all that. But I’ll do whatever it takes. As far as I’m concerned, the end justifies the means. I’ve far too much to lose to think of playing Sir Galahad…’

Standing, shivering and miserable, outside the living-room door, Tina was chilled anew by the icy ruthlessness in his voice.

This was a side of him that she hadn’t yet seen. But perhaps, as a successful businessman, he needed to have a ruthless streak.

Though his future wife didn’t seem to care for it. Sounding close to breaking-point, she cried, ‘Well, I still think you’re wrong. There has to be a better way…’ Then, with a touch of venom, ‘Unless, of course, it’s really what you want…’

As she heard the doorknob rattle beneath fumbling fingers, terrified of being caught eavesdropping, Tina turned to run.

Knowing she would never make it across the hall and up the stairs without being seen, she fled into the neighbouring study just as the living-room door opened and closed.

Through the window, which overlooked the courtyard, she could see a bright red open-topped sports car standing by the main entrance, sun ricocheting from its polished bonnet.

A few seconds later the front door opened and a tall, slim, dark-haired woman came hurrying out with Richard at her heels.

While he had remained calm and implacable, the argument—whatever it had been about—had clearly upset Helen O’Connell and she was in tears.

His face showing concern now, he made an obvious attempt to reason with her.

When, beside herself, she refused to listen, he took her arm. She pulled it free. He tried again to detain her but, with sudden unbridled fury, she turned and slapped his face.

Then, jumping into the car, she started the ignition, stamped her foot down and, with a reckless burst of acceleration, roared across the cobbles, through the archway and over the bridge.

Richard stood for a moment, his hand to his cheek, staring after her.

When he turned to make his way back inside, afraid that he might see her watching, Tina hurriedly moved away from the window.

She was heading for the door when, unwilling to chance running into him in the hall in case he guessed what she had seen and heard, she hesitated. It might be safest to stay where she was until the coast was clear.

The next second found her wondering if that was the right decision. He’d obviously been working in here when his visitor had arrived and a file had been tossed down and left on his desk.

Suppose he came straight back to the study?

Knowing she was trapped, she waited in an agony of suspense, listening for his approaching footsteps, wondering how best to explain her presence there.

When several minutes had dragged past without her hearing a sound, realising that he wasn’t coming straight back, she heaved a sigh of relief.

If she used the phone on the desk to ring for a taxi and arranged to meet it at the top of the drive rather than let it come through into the courtyard, she might be able to leave without anyone knowing.

It would mean going without her mobile, but that was a small price to pay.

She was just reaching for the receiver when, without warning, the door opened, making her gasp.

A second later Richard walked in, looking coolly elegant in well-cut fawn trousers and a short-sleeved olive-green silk shirt open at the neck.

‘So there you are,’ he said, his taut expression clearing. ‘When you weren’t upstairs I started to wonder where you’d got to. How’s the ankle this morning? It looks as if the swelling’s gone down…’

Appearing relaxed and easy now, he came over and, tilting her chin, kissed her mouth.

A lover’s kiss.

For a split second she stood as though turned to stone, then, on a reflex action, she jerked her head sharply away.

His dark level brows drawing together in a frown, he queried, ‘What’s the matter?’

Momentarily unable to speak, she shook her head.

‘Something must be.’

‘I couldn’t find my phone,’ she said in a rush, ‘and I wanted to call a taxi.’

‘Why do you want a taxi?’ he asked evenly.

‘Because I’m leaving.’

His tawny eyes narrowed. ‘What’s happened to make you want to leave?’

‘Nothing,’ she lied desperately. ‘I just think it’s time I went. So, if you don’t mind—’

‘Oh, but I do.’ Suddenly he was looming over her. ‘After all we’ve shared, I mind very much that you want to walk out without any explanation.’

Gritting her teeth, she said boldly, ‘I don’t have to give an explanation. Surely the fact that I want to leave is enough. Now, if you’ll please let me have my mobile back.’

When he merely looked at her, she reminded him, ‘You kept it last night after you’d called Mullins—’

‘In that case it must be in my pocket…’

Shaking her head, she began, ‘It isn’t—’

He raised a dark brow. ‘How do you know?’

Seeing her flush guiltily, he observed, ‘So you’ve been going through my pockets?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said jerkily. ‘I should have asked you, I know, but I’m afraid I acted on impulse…’ The explanation petered out.

‘And did you find anything interesting?’ he queried with smooth mockery.

Nettled by his tone, she flashed back, ‘Only a torch that lit.’

‘Really?’ he drawled. ‘Then there must have been a loose connection.’

When he said nothing further, deciding to let it go, she gritted her teeth and returned to the point. ‘So please can I have my mobile?’

‘If it isn’t in my pocket, I’m afraid…’ With an elegant gesture of apology, he spread his hands, palms upward.

‘I don’t believe you don’t know where it is.’

‘And I don’t believe that you suddenly want to leave Anders for no good reason.’

Realising that she was fighting a losing battle, she said shortly, ‘Whatever you believe, you can’t prevent me from going.’

‘Don’t be too sure about that.’

Suddenly scared, she brushed past him, catching the edge of the file that was lying on his desk, knocking it to the floor and spreading the contents.

Even as she stepped over the papers and headed for the door, part of her mind registered the fact that several of them bore a stylized logo.

Her hand was on the knob when Richard caught her arm and swung her round. Then, turning the big key in the lock, he dropped it into his trousers pocket and stooped to gather together the contents of the file.

As he dropped it back on his desk, she faced him defiantly. ‘You can’t keep me here against my will.’

‘Maybe not for any length of time,’ he admitted. ‘But certainly for the moment.’

‘I insist that you let me go.’

‘Even if I did, it would be extremely difficult for you to leave without some kind of transport…So suppose you tell me the truth.’

Biting her lip, she said nothing.

‘I can only presume it’s something to do with Helen’s visit,’ he hazarded. ‘Something you overheard, perhaps?’

When she remained stubbornly silent, he sighed.

‘What a shame the thumbscrews aren’t handy,’ she taunted with sudden recklessness.

Between thick dark lashes his eyes gleamed green as a cat’s. ‘There are other ways.’

Though he spoke lightly, she felt her blood run cold. Still she braved it out. ‘Such as?’

He smiled mirthlessly. ‘Judging by the way you shied away when I kissed you, I gather you’d prefer me not to touch you?’

She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘You’re quite right, I would.’

‘You didn’t seem to feel that way last night.’

‘I do now.’

A little smile playing around his chiselled mouth, with slow deliberation he began to unbutton his shirt before pulling it from the waistband of his trousers.

‘What are you doing?’ she cried, aghast.

‘Taking off my clothes. Perhaps you’d like to do the same?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘Well, I could take them off for you,’ he suggested. ‘On the other hand, I haven’t made love fully clothed since I was an impetuous teenager, so it might be something of a novelty.’

‘I don’t want you to make love to me,’ she cried in a strangled voice. ‘I don’t want you to touch me.’

‘So you said. But if you really don’t want that, then you’ll tell me why you’re so intent on leaving.’ When she stayed mute, with a suddenness that took her completely by surprise, he pulled her close and, neatly hooking her feet from beneath her, followed her down, his arms breaking her fall.

Flat on her back on the thick-pile carpet, she made an attempt to struggle free but, catching her wrists, he pinned them over her head.

His shirt was open and, looking up at his broad chest, the strong column of his neck, the tender hollow at the base, she felt her stomach clench.

As calmly as possible, she said, ‘Let me go.’

By way of answer, he put his lips to the pulse fluttering wildly in her throat.

Thickly, she insisted, ‘If you don’t let me go this instant I’ll scream.’

His smile maddeningly cool, he said, ‘Do you think I’d allow you to? In any case, there’s no one to hear you. All the household servants are at chapel.’

He brought her wrists together and, holding them in one hand, used the other to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.

Then, flicking it open, he ran a fingertip beneath the edge of her low-cut bra and heard her breathing quicken even more. His finger delved a little deeper and he watched with satisfaction as her nipples firmed visibly beneath the delicate material.

Still she held out and he bent his head.

Feeling the heat and dampness of his mouth through the satin and lace, she began to shudder. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered in desperation. ‘Don’t…’

‘Why not? You liked it last night.’

‘That was before…’

‘Before what?’

She threw in the towel. ‘Before I knew you were planning to get married.’

‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘so that’s it.’ Then, quick as a rattlesnake striking, ‘How do you know I’m planning to get married?’

‘Hannah mentioned it.’

He relaxed a little. ‘When did you see Hannah?’

‘I met her as I was coming downstairs. She was on her way to the chapel.’

‘I see. So that’s what all the fuss is about.’

‘If you’re going to try and tell me it isn’t true—’

‘I’ve no intention of telling you any such thing.’

‘Oh…’ Perhaps even now she had been treasuring some faint hope that Hannah had got it wrong.

Irony in his voice, he asked, ‘As you know I’m getting married, perhaps you also know who my bride-to-be is?’

‘Yes, I do. It’s Helen O’Connell.’

He raised a dark brow. ‘What makes you presume that? It’s not just because she came here, surely?’

‘It’s what I understood from Hannah.’

Frowning, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me word for word exactly what Hannah said.’

As near as she could remember, Tina repeated what the housekeeper had told her, adding with unconscious bitterness, ‘I gather she’s delighted.’

‘But you’re not?’

‘As far as I’m concerned, Miss O’Connell is more than welcome to you.’

‘Jealous?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Tell me,’ he said, his face sardonic, ‘if you’re not jealous, why are you so angry about it?’

Made furious by his cavalier attitude, she cried, ‘Because you’re a brute and a beast and an unfeeling devil! How could you bring me here like this? What would your fiancée think if she found out?’

‘Do I take it you’re planning to tell her?’ he asked mockingly.

‘No, I’m not. The only thing I’m planning is to go and never get within a mile of you again.’

He shook his head regretfully. ‘In that case I’m afraid our schedules don’t match. You see I have no intention of letting you go and every intention of keeping you close by my side.’

Bending his head, he kissed her.

The casual arrogance of that kiss was the last straw and she began to struggle furiously, writhing and kicking, fighting to free her hands.

She was young and fit and, despite her slender build, strong.

But he was so much stronger.

Holding her down with the weight of his body, he ordered, ‘Lie still or you’ll hurt yourself.’

When, from sheer exhaustion, she was forced to obey, he said quietly, ‘That’s better.’

‘Oh, please, Richard,’ she begged raggedly, ‘let me get up.’

Perhaps he realised how close to tears she was, because without further ado he released her wrists and his weight lifted from her.

Having helped her up, he rebuttoned her blouse before pushing her gently into the nearest chair. Then, having fastened his own shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his trousers, he stood looking down at her.

All trace of mockery gone now, he said, ‘I want you to listen to me. You’re right in thinking that I’m hoping to be married…’

Fool that she was, she had still half hoped that he might deny it.

‘However, you’re quite wrong in believing that the lady in question is Helen O’Connell…’

‘Oh…’ Tina said in a small voice.

‘At one time Hannah may have had hopes in that direction but, when she mentioned the Reverend Peter getting his wish, you were mistaken in thinking she was referring to Helen.’

Feeling foolish, Tina stared blindly down at her hands clasped together in her lap.

When she said nothing, he went on evenly, ‘Because Hannah’s been part of the family for so long, I told her my plans…Though I must admit I hadn’t expected her to say anything until I’d had a chance to discuss those plans with the woman I’m hoping to marry.’

When Tina continued to sit in silence, head bent, the mockery back in his voice, he suggested, ‘Now aren’t you going to ask me who that woman is?’

She shook her head. It didn’t really matter who it was. The mere fact that he had found a woman he wanted to marry had turned her own short-lived happiness into dust and ashes.

‘Does that mean you’re not interested, or you feel reluctant to ask?’

Apart from saying that his intentions were in no way casual, he’d made no commitment, had promised her nothing, so what right had she to ask?

‘Well?’ he pressed.

‘I feel I’ve no right to ask,’ she admitted dully.

A hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face and said firmly, ‘After the way I’ve treated you, you’ve every right to ask.’

Her breath taken away, she gazed up at him mutely as he went on, ‘I got you to come here by offering you a job. A job you turned down on the grounds that, because we’d been to bed together, you would find it awkward to work for me.

‘That shows a rare sensitivity in this day and age, when a lot of women wouldn’t have given it a second thought or would have regarded a sexual interest as a plus.

‘Well, now I’m offering you a different kind of job, a job where a sexual interest is not only a plus but absolutely vital…’

When, her blue-violet eyes wide, she continued to stare up at him, he said, ‘I want you to be my wife.’

‘What?’ she whispered, unable to believe her ears.

‘I want you to be my wife,’ he repeated. ‘Or, as Marlowe put it, “Come live with me and be my love…”

‘It’s sudden, I admit,’ he added quizzically, ‘but there’s no need to look quite so taken aback. After all, I did make it plain that my interest was far from casual…’

‘Yes, I know, but I…I never thought…I never dreamt…’ Wanting to believe it, but afraid to, needing desperately to be reassured that this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke, she asked huskily, ‘Do you really want to marry me?’

‘Yes,’ he answered, a touch of amusement in his voice, ‘I really do.’

When, still struggling to take it in, she said nothing, he offered teasingly, ‘Would you like me to say it again?’

‘I—I’m sorry, but I just find it hard to believe,’ she admitted.

‘But my proposal isn’t unwelcome, I hope?’ A finger tracing the curve of her cheek, he asked with apparent irrelevance, ‘When we saw the evening star and both made a wish, what did you wish for?’

Seeing her colour rise, he smiled, as if that was answer enough, and told her softly, ‘You are what I wished for.’ Bending his head, he kissed her lips. A light coaxing kiss. ‘All you have to do is marry me to make my wish come true.

‘I would have waited a little and proposed to you in a more romantic setting,’ he added seriously, ‘if Hannah hadn’t let the cat out of the bag.

‘However,’ he went on after a moment, ‘I hope the setting won’t make any difference to your answer?’

The setting wasn’t important, Tina thought, winging her way up to cloud nine—Richard loved her and wanted to marry her; that was all that mattered.

She would have been content with his love—more than content, deliriously happy. The fact that he wanted to make her his wife was more than she had ever dared to hope for and her heart swelled with joy and gratitude.

Watching her glowing face, he was almost sure that he’d pulled it off. But he needed to hear her say it out loud.

When she continued to sit as though in a trance, her eyes soft and full of dreams, growing impatient, he took her shoulders and, lifting her to her feet, urged, ‘I’m still waiting for an answer. Will you marry me?’

She gave him the most glorious smile and answered simply, ‘Yes.’

That smile made him feel despicable and, for a split second, in spite of everything, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

But he couldn’t afford to weaken now.

Shrugging off the feeling, he hardened his heart.

Though it was over in an instant, she picked up that fleeting doubt. ‘But perhaps we should have time to think it over?’

He frowned. ‘Do you need time?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not really. But I thought you might.’

‘I don’t need time to think it over. I know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘But you don’t really know enough about me.’

‘I know everything I need to know.’

Though he sounded certain, a lingering unease made her ask, ‘On the drive here you talked about your wife and children living at Anders…Suppose I dislike children and don’t want any…?’

‘Do you dislike children?’

‘No, of course I don’t. I don’t think a marriage is complete without children, but—’

His mouth covered hers, stopping the words, before he said, ‘Then I know everything I need to know.’

‘How can you be so sure when we only met a couple of days ago?’

‘The first time I saw you I knew you were all I’d ever dreamed of or wanted in a woman.’

Though his answer was sweet and romantic, something impelled her to say, ‘It just seems so sudden…’

He brushed her lips lightly with his. ‘Have you never heard of love at first sight?’

‘Of course, but—’

‘I had hoped the feeling might have been mutual.’

After a moment she admitted softly, ‘It was.’

Making no attempt to hide his elation, he pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her in earnest.

For a while they stood embracing, lost to the world, like Donne’s ecstatic lovers.

Eventually, the intrusive thought that there were still things to be done, one final hurdle to surmount, disturbed the blissful mood.

Lifting his head reluctantly and opting for a change of scene, Richard suggested, ‘It’s a lovely morning—shall we get some fresh air?’

A fountain of happiness welling inside her, she nodded. ‘Let’s.’

‘Sure the ankle’s up to it?’

‘It’s as good as new this morning.’

‘Oh, wait a minute, you won’t have had anything to eat yet…’

‘I haven’t, but—’

‘There’ll be bacon and eggs and coffee keeping hot in the breakfast room.’

‘I’m not hungry, but I’d like a cup of coffee before we go.’

When they’d each had a coffee, wondering how best to play it without appearing to rush things, he suggested casually, ‘Would you like to stroll down and see the horses?’

‘I’d love to.’

‘You said you used to ride.’

‘Oh, yes. Though I haven’t been on a horse for some time now, I rode a lot when I was younger.’

‘Then perhaps we could take them out.’

He captured her hand and laced his fingers through hers as they left the breakfast room and made their way along the length of the hall.

Beyond the servants’ quarters, the kitchens and a flagged outer hall—all of which appeared to be deserted—a huge studded-oak door opened on to a wide area of decking and a sturdy wooden bridge.

‘The tradesmen’s entrance,’ Richard told her with a grin as they crossed the bridge hand in hand.

It was a beautiful morning, calm and sunny, the balmy air full of the oddly poignant scents of autumn: freshly sawn pine logs, late wallflowers, decaying leaves and woodsmoke.

On the far side of the bridge was a paved carriageway, one fork of which served the garden area, while the other, running between smooth lawns, sloped gently down to an old-fashioned stone-built stable block and coach house.

The large central archway was surmounted by a cupola, on top of which a black wrought iron weathervane—a horse taking the place of the traditional cock—stood motionless in the still air.

On all four sides of the cupola was a large clock with a blue face and golden hands that declared it was almost ten-thirty.

In the stable yard a short bow-legged man wearing a flat cap, a flannel shirt and riding breeches was grooming a large black stallion, whose coat gleamed with good health and care.

‘Morning, Josh,’ Richard said cheerfully. ‘I’d like you to meet Miss Dunbar.’

‘Good morning, miss…Morning, Mr Richard.’ The groom touched his forelock in a gesture Tina had thought obsolete.

Indicating a chestnut mare with pricked ears and gentle eyes who was regarding them quietly over one of the stable doors, Richard told her, ‘This is Juno.’

‘Well, hello…’ Tina stroked the waiting head and was nuzzled in return. ‘You’re beautiful…’

‘And, as you’ve no doubt guessed, this is Jupiter.’ Richard clapped the black horse on the shoulder.

Taking a liking to the big placid-looking animal, she stroked his velvety muzzle and told him, ‘My, but you’re a handsome fellow…’

Lifting his head, he snuffled her cheek appreciatively.

‘If you were thinking of taking un out,’ Josh said, ‘I can have un saddled up in no time at all.’

‘What about Juno?’ Richard asked.

‘Yesterday when ’er was out, ’er cast a near hind shoe. I’m waiting on Tom Ferris. Said ’e’d fetch ’er some time this morning, so if you were wanting to take ’er out later…’

As if sensing Tina’s disappointment, Richard glanced at her and suggested, ‘If you fancy a ride now, Jupiter will easily take both of us.’

At her eager acceptance, he nodded to the groom. ‘Saddle him up, Josh.’

As soon as the horse was ready, the groom disappeared, to return almost immediately with two riding hats.

‘There be yours, Mr Richard, and I fancy the mistress’s old un’ll do fine for Miss Dunbar.’

The protective headgear buckled into place, Tina climbed the two steps to the mounting block and in a trice was astride Jupiter’s broad back, taking care to leave the stirrups free for Richard.

He swung himself lightly into the saddle behind her and a moment later, with a wave to Josh, they were off.

Holding the reins in his left hand, his right arm securely around Tina, for a while they ambled along, heading south through pleasant undulating parkland.

After they had gone some half a mile, in response to Jupiter’s urging, Richard gave the beast his head and, making light of his load, the big horse broke into an easy canter.

It was exhilarating and Tina laughed aloud with the sheer joy of it. In response to such spontaneous gladness, Richard’s arm tightened around her.

When a shallow stream came into view, unwilling to overtax the horse, he reined him in and they ambled down to the water’s edge.

There, where the grass was still green and lush and the trees made a dappled shade, he slid to the ground and, having lifted Tina down, looped the reins over a low branch.

Then, leaving the horse to graze peacefully, they took off their riding hats and went to sit on a fallen tree trunk by the fast-flowing stream.

Held in the crook of Richard’s arm, Tina watched the glittering water as it ran leaping and chuckling over its stony bed and knew what perfect happiness and contentment felt like.

After a while he broke the silence to say, ‘I’d like us to be married as soon as possible.’

When something in his tone, a kind of tension, made her glance up at him, he added almost roughly, ‘I sound impatient, I know, but I just can’t wait to make you mine.’

Her heart fluttered and swelled with gratitude that he should feel so strongly about her.

‘If you were hoping for a big wedding with dozens of guests and all the trimmings,’ he went on, ‘we can always have a second ceremony later.’

Nestling against him, she said simply, ‘I don’t need a big wedding and all the trimmings,’ and heard his quick sigh of relief.

‘That’s my girl.’ His arm tightened round her. ‘So shall we say tomorrow morning?’

Thinking he was joking, she laughed and said, ‘Why not? Except that it can’t be done so quickly.’

‘As we have our own priest and our own chapel, all we need to do is warn the Reverend Peter and arrange for two witnesses.’

Realising he wasn’t joking after all, she said breathlessly, ‘B-but surely we need a…a licence of some kind?’

‘I have a special licence lined up.’

Through lips gone suddenly stiff, she said, ‘Then you must have intended it for someone else.’

‘You are the only woman I’ve ever wanted to marry.’ His green-gold eyes on her face, he added, ‘I told you earlier that the first time I saw you I knew you were the one I’d been waiting for.’

She half shook her head. ‘I realise that being who you are, you must have quite a pull. But, even with your own chapel and your own family priest, I don’t believe you could have got a licence in the time. You hadn’t set eyes on me until Friday…’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he told her quietly.