Page 80 of The Wedding Proposal

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Elle marched along the quayside towards the Shady Lady with a ‘let’s get it over with’ air. While aboard Seadancer she’d changed into a white dress that looked amazing with her tan, and yanked her hair up into a knot on the top of her head.

Troubled, Lucas took her hand. A few hours ago it had seemed supportive to refuse to discuss Elle without her being present. He’d felt as if he was ranking himself on her side, creating a boundary for his parents not to cross. But as he’d explained the situation to Elle, defensive wariness had frozen her expression and he could swear she’d shrunk from him. In her eyes there was something he really didn’t like.

Disappointment?

As he’d waited on the quayside, trying not to attach any particular importance to her not inviting him to her cabin while she changed, he’d gazed almost unseeingly at two fishermen dangling their lines between the boats in the calm marina waters, and the expression in Elle’s eyes had bothered him. A lot.

Now, striding beside her, he was beginning to feel like he was not just taking a lamb to slaughter but asking it how it would like to be cooked.

Much as he loved his parents, he was under few illusions about them. Fiona, particularly, was self-assured and direct to the extent that people in her practice affectionately called her ‘Fearsome Fiona’. Or possibly not always affectionately.

He halted. ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’

She made to carry on up the marina. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’

His hand tightened on hers and he tugged her back. ‘Not if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.’

She turned her blue eyes on him, grave and guarded. ‘Your parents have always made me uncomfortable. They never made any effort to make me feel anything else. If I don’t answer their summons then where do we go from here?’ There was anger in her voice but also resignation.

He didn’t like either one. ‘Shit. I have got it wrong. Now you’re uncomfortable with me.’

Her gaze switched to the Shady Lady and a small frown creased her brows. Slowly, she said, ‘I don’t think your suggesting that I be given the opportunity to hear their concerns is the issue. The issue is that your parents have an issue. With me. The fact that they’ve prioritised bringing that issue to your attention, considering the circumstances under which they’re on the island, is an indicator of the level of their concern. I think ignoring that would be the wrong thing to do. Signals are there for us to learn from.’

She sounded if she was in a team meeting. Remote. Assessing. Deciding. Acting.

His heart sank and he cursed his tendency towards prompt decisions, because it was a complete bitch when those decisions turned out to be wrong. He should have heard his parents out and organised his defences — their defences, his and Elle’s — once he understood the situation, instead of leaping to the stance of it being wrong to talk behind Elle’s back. It had felt wrong. Wrong was wrong. So he’d said so.

Elle had always said that he saw nothing between right and wrong. She was right.

Time for damage limitation. ‘Then we’d better send out a few signals of our own, hadn’t we?’ He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it.

Her gaze returned to his face and her frown lifted for just a moment. ‘Let’s see,’ was all she said.

* * *

Fiona and Geoffrey were waiting in the saloon, long clear drinks in front of them. ‘Good evening,’ said Fiona, ever the spokesperson.

‘Hi,’ said Elle, sliding onto the sofa opposite them without waiting to be invited.

Geoffrey cleared his throat. ‘Gin and tonic?’

‘No thanks.’ Elle hated gin and tonic. It hadn’t taken the senior Roses long to provision the boat to their own tastes.

‘Beer?’ suggested Lucas.

With a quick smile, Elle nodded, watching him jump down into the galley and swoop up bottles from the fridge.

While showering and changing, Elle had taken a few minutes to think. Ideally, she would have liked her brain to supply her with a confidence-inspiring plan to take the fight to her opponents. She’d tried to visualise herself being more forthright than Fiona, more intimidating than Geoffrey, coolly articulate as she enquired as to the nature of their concerns, impressing them with her maturity and poise.

Unfortunately, it was a vision that refused to form. Much clearer was the spectre of Elle stammering guiltily the instant Fiona fixed her with that legal eagle glare.

So she’d decided upon the strategy of speaking only to reply, allowing Lucas’s parents to state their business and expose their battle plan. She smoothed down her dress, folded her hands, and looked politely from Fiona to Geoffrey.

Fiona’s brows lifted. ‘It was a surprise for us to learn that you were living here with Lucas, Elle.’

‘Simon’s idea of helping out,’ Lucas supplied. ‘He felt we needed some help to get back together. And it’s worked out better than we first thought it would.’

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