Page 17 of Bride Under Contract

Yet, as pleasurable as an escape would be, he wasn’t here for that.

And also he was enjoying their conversation.

Unexpectedly so.

‘Yes.’ Carter nodded.

He rarely discussed personal matters, yet here he was, sitting above the river, dragged back to a world he’d hoped to avoid. And he’d never see her again.

‘He left his estate to both my cousin and I.’ He gave a small grimace and she must have noted it.

‘You don’t get on?’

‘We don’t,’ he agreed, topping up their glasses. ‘I have no idea what my grandfather was thinking. He must have been losing his mind.’

‘Please don’t—’

She put up a hand, her voice still soft, but passionate and urgent. Enough so that he put down the bottle.

‘Sorry...’ She seemed embarrassed to have halted him. ‘I just hate that turn of phrase. My mother actually is losing her mind.’

‘Then I apologise for my careless words.’

‘It’s fine.’ She shrugged tense shoulders, took a breath, and he watched her force them to relax. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

Grace didn’t really know why she had.

For days she’d actively avoided the topic, and though she’d started to regret holding back from the group it felt too late now to amend that. But with Carter there was a certain allure in his grey eyes. Or perhaps, sitting there on a sultry night, surrounded by a sky hung with stars, it was easier, just for a short while, to let down her perpetual guard.

‘When you say she’s losing her mind...?’

Grace would never get used to saying it, and her lips were tight around her words. ‘She has dementia.’

‘She must be young?’

‘Yes. She’s just gone into a nursing home. A nice one,’ she added, deciding she’d said enough—it was hardly gentle conversation.

‘How long has she been unwell?’

Grace hadn’t expected the question. She looked at eyes that, colour-wise, remained as cold and grey as a winter’s day, yet she felt as if she sat by a fire, the world outside a window, all the warmth and comfort here.

‘A few years...’

She’d been thinking back on it earlier, as she’d lain on the hammock. ‘I never even considered it at first.’ She saw...not a frown, more his eyes narrowing in a kind of interest. And maybe it was the wine, or maybe this week had given her space, because for the first time she felt able to examine those bewildering times.

‘She became...’ How best to put it? ‘Tricky.’

‘I am guessing that’s an understatement?’

‘Not at first.’ Grace shook her head. ‘It was hard to pinpoint, I just knew something was wrong. I tried to rationalise it...’ She gave a pale smile. ‘Ignore it.’

‘Did the rest of your family notice?’

‘It’s mainly just us. There’s an aunt and cousin, but they didn’t think anything was amiss...’ Grace said. ‘I was sharing a flat with my friend Violet, and I moved back home. I didn’t tell her why.’

‘How come?’

‘There are some things that you just don’t share.’ Grace thought back. ‘Things you don’t want others to see. Well, that’s how it felt for me.’ She looked at him. ‘I felt disloyal, maybe?’

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