Page 14 of The Farmer Has a Wife

Even Isabella, who Eleanor had always considered a true English rose, looked jaundiced beneath the light.

Eleanor sat primly on one of the uncomfortable chairs, her hands folded in her lap, the very picture of poised patience. She’d made an effort, choosing a cream-colored suit for the occasion. It was stylish, rather than ostentatious, appropriate for what was, essentially, a business transaction. She crossed her legs at the ankles and took a slow, deep breath.

“I’ll go and have a look to see if the bride is coming,” Elizabeth said after an eternal silence.

“The bride is here, my dear,” said Isabella, nodding toward Eleanor. Then she flushed slightly. “Ah, yes, I do see what you mean. Please, go on.”

Elizabeth left with a sigh of relief.

“Are you quite alright?” Eleanor asked her grandmother politely.

Isabella surveyed the setting with a look of mild horror. “You mean, other than you obviously fully embracing romance?” shesaid tartly.

“It’s not about romance,” Eleanor sighed.

“Clearly,” murmured Isabella, pulling her scarf up on her shoulder a touch. She turned to Eleanor with a pointed expression. “You know, I’m hardly a stranger to marriages of convenience. In my time, they were probably the rule more than the exception. What, with most of the aristocratic houses losing their money after the war and all. Our family has had plenty of them, as have many of my friends.”

“Indeed,” Eleanor said, wondering just where her grandmother was going with this.

“In fact, sometimes, I do rather think that such relationships do end up working for the best. Romance can be fleeting.”

“This isn’t about romance,” Eleanor said again.

“I know,” said Isabella with a sigh. “That’s rather the problem. Whilst I understand the… utility of a marriage of convenience, I do question whether you have the temperament for such an arrangement.”

Eleanor stiffened. “Meaning?”

Isabella laid a hand on her granddaughter’s arm, her voice a little gentler. “You may think that you’re all logic and reason, Eleanor. But you’re more sentimental than you realize. You get that from your father, you know.”

Irritation bristled over Eleanor’s skin. She knew an insult when she heard one, and she wasn’t about to accept it, even from her grandmother. “That’s insulting.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes. “Is it, my dear? You must barely remember the man. I remember him. I remember him quite well, as it happens.”

Eleanor closed her eyes. She forgot, sometimes, that when she lost her parents, her grandmother had lost a son. “Of course,” she said. “I apologize.”

“Apology accepted,” Isabella said briskly. “And my point here was that this might not be as simple as you think.”

Eleanor lifted her chin. “It is simple. I need to be married to inherit. This is the most efficient solution for everyoneinvolved.”

“Mmm,” Isabella said.

And before Eleanor could pursue the matter further, Elizabeth returned with the news that a decrepit Land Rover was currently parking in the disabled parking space at the front of the building.

???

Danni threw the old truck into park and wiped her hands on her jeans. “Here we are then,” she said.

“Dan, this is ridiculous.”

She turned to look at her brother. To his credit, he was wearing a jacket and a tie. He must have done that for her, it was unlikely that their mother would have taken much interest in what he was doing or even where he was going.

“Yep,” she said. “And yet, here we are.”

“When I told you to be smarter with money, I didn’t mean to for you to marry your way out of debt,” he said, exasperation heavy in his tone. “I didn’t mean for you to get a sugar-daddy to pay all your bills.”

“Sugar-mummy,” Danni said. She sighed. “Look, I know how it sounds—”

“Do you?” said Hector, his cheeks flushed pink. “Because if you did, I’m not so sure you’d be so gung-ho about doing it.”

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