Page 163 of Love ad Lib
‘Yes? Do you not recognise me? Is a visit to the optician in order?’
His grandmother was sitting in her favourite chair, her spine ramrod straight, her hair and make-up immaculate enough to pose for a portrait.
She lifted her cane and pointed to the chair next to hers.
What the fuck?He sat before his knees gave way.
‘You’re better,’ was all he could manage.
‘Yes. A good night’s sleep has worked wonders.’
He stared at her. What the hell was going on?She hasn’t asked about Libby…
‘You know,’ he stated.
‘For weeks.’
‘What? How?’
His grandmother lowered her head a fraction to give him one of her hardest stares. The steely glares were designed to remind you of your pecking order in the family, which was always beneath her in every way.
‘On your first night back, you didn’t sleep in your room. I saw you through my binoculars. And I know what kind of girls work for publishing houses like Winterblossom. They’re sweet young things and dream of being the next Polly Hart. Libby’s not like them in the slightest. It only took one phone call to discover she didn’t work there.’
He shook his head. She’d known. All this time?
‘So, then I had to determine who she was and where you found her,’ Gram-Gram continued. She lowered her head another inch to give him the full force of her glare. ‘It took me less than a minute.’
‘How?’
‘Using the world wide web, of course,’ she replied. ‘When your name and hers didn’t produce a result, I searched for “Conqueror” and “Libby”. It delivered me her website and a photograph from the workshop she ran at your company.’ She paused. ‘I hadn’t seen you smile like that since you were a child.’
‘But why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Because I wanted to observe the two of you, to deduce why you chose her for this ridiculous scheme, and why she accepted.’
‘And yesterday? Your sudden “illness”? What on earth was that all about?’
‘Do not take that tone with me, Henry.’
‘Fucking hell, Gram-Gram!’ he exploded. ‘We’ve been worried sick!’
‘Humph.’
‘Why? Why did you do it?’
She rapped her cane sharply on the floor. ‘To force you to take action. To marry the girl and finally come home.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know enough about what is going on at the Manor, but I know the situation is precarious. If your father is not kept in check, the estate will fall. Estelle has done her best, but Arthur does not take heed, and I will not see the Foxbrooke legacy destroyed in my lifetime. As for Libby, it was clear you both had strong feelings for each other. She’s got the spark you need in a partner.’
‘But marriage, Gram-Gram? We’ve only known each other a few months.’
She sniffed. ‘Longer than I knew your grandfather before we were married. I know that girl is right for you even if you don’t.’
‘But her life is in London.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘And I’ve messed it up with her anyway.’
‘Everything is surmountable. The preferred outcome is the two of you back here permanently. However, if I must, I will accept either you returning on your own or continuing your present life in London, but with her.’
