Chapter 5

Later that evening, Lea fed Flossie and let her out for a comfort walk. When she got back, the old dog began to snore almost as soon as she settled back in her wicker basket in front of the fire in the old Borthman’s study, a few doors away from the kitchen. There was a pet door in one of the back doors off the kitchen, but Flossie was too arthritic these days to get through it.

It was sad to see the old girl’s decline. Lea had only been at Brathellae a couple of weeks when Angus McLaughlin brought Flossie home as a playful and needle-toothed puppy. She had often wondered if he had bought the dog to help her settle in. She had asked him once, but he’d dismissed the suggestion in a gruff and off-hand way.

Lea had spent many a happy time playing with Flossie, brushing her silky coat, and taking her on walks about the estate, which had seemed so huge and terrifying when she had first arrived. But with the company of the ebullient puppy, it had suddenly become a home. A home she could not imagine losing. Her happiest memories—the only happy memories she possessed—had been crafted and laid down here at Brathellae.

Lea was putting the finishing touches on dinner shortly after Dave strode into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder and turned back to the pot she was stirring on the cooktop.

“Dinner won’t be long, Mr. Borthman.”

“Really? That serious?”

“What do you mean?” she raised her brows.

“Never mind. Where’s Elsie?”

Lea put the cooking spoon down on the ceramic spoon rest and turned and faced him, wiping her hands on her apron. “I gave her the night off. She hasn’t been doing so much cooking now that your grandfather’s no longer with us.” She waited a beat and added, “She knew about the change to his will, and she talked to your sister, so yeah, figure it out.”

“She talks with Mary?”

“Yes.”

“And your aunt is okay with it?” He asked, knowing that maybe they planned this all along to figure out how to marry him off and forget his dead ex. Dave frowned. “Thoughtful of Mary to share things with the household help but not with me.”

“I can't blame her," Lea replied with the same boredom he had.

“I know…she really wanted to—never mind.”

Lea pursed her lips. “You might think of Aunt Elsie as little more than a humble housekeeper, but she has supported your family through every high and low of the last three decades.” She whipped off her apron and flung it on the benchtop. And when your grandmother died, Aunt Elsie cooked, cleaned, and consoled everyone, working long hours and forsaking a normal life of her own. Don’t you dare refer to her as just the help.” Her chest was heaving like she had just run up one of the Brathellae turrets. Three turrets. Possibly all twelve of them.

He frowned at her and looked at the view outside the window. Dave closed his eyes in a slow blink and sighed. “All I seem to do lately around you is open my mouth and change feet.”

He twisted his lips into a rueful grimace. “I meant no offence. My only excuse is that I’m still reeling from being so much in the dark about my grandfather’s and Mary's intentions. I hate surprises at the best of times, and this was one hell of a surprise. I know Mary doesn't want to do anything with the castle; I can't blame her though, but this belongs to my ancestors. Ill do anything to preserve all of this,” he gestured everywhere, feeling somewhat guilty by offending the woman.

There were surprises, and there were surprises. Lea could only imagine that the surprises Dave had received over the course of his life were not the pleasant type. His parents' sudden deaths, the terrible shock of his fiancée’s suicide, and now his grandfather’s odd conditions on his will. She could hardly blame him for wanting a little more predictability in his life. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told Aunt Elsie about your proposal.”

Dave’s gaze was steady and watchful. “And?”

“She told me I’d be a fool not to accept.”

“And have you accepted?”

“Just to be clear, I don’t want you to lose Brathellae much more than I want to be your wife. Think of my acceptance as an act of charity, if you will.”

He wanted to smile and roll his eyes, but he held himself. Suddenly, he felt relieved and happy at the same time. If he was relieved by her answer, he gave no sign of it on his face. They might as well have been discussing the weather. “I appreciate your honesty. Neither of us want this, but we have a common goal in saving Brathellae.” Nothing else, he thought to himself.

Lea kept her chin high, her gaze level, and her pride on active duty. “She also thinks it won’t be a paper marriage for very long.”

One side of his mouth came up with a vestige of a smile. It took years off his face and made something in her stomach slip sideways. It had been so many months since she had seen him give anything close to a smile.

Dave approached the island bench on the opposite side of where she was standing.

“Why would she think that?” His voice had gone down to a rough, deep burr.

Her gaze flicked away from his, her cheeks warming like she’d been standing too close to the oven. She gave a little shrug. “Who knows? Perhaps she thinks you’ll be overcome with uncontrollable lust and won’t be able to resist me.”

There was a loaded silence. A silence with an undercurrent of unusual energy vibrating through every particle of air. Energy that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck and along her arms tingle at the roots.

Lea sneaked a glance at him, and she found him looking at her with a contemplative frown.

After a moment, he appeared to give himself a mental shake and then raked his splayed fingers through his hair, dropping his hand back by his side. “I would hope you know me well enough to be reassured that I am a man of my word. If I say our marriage will not be consummated, then you can count on it that it won’t be.”

Well…

Why? Because she was so undesirable? So repugnant to him as she had been to her first and only boyfriend when she was sixteen? So unlike the gorgeous supermodel types Dave had occasional casual flings with?

Wow! That hurt.

“Right now, I don’t know whether I should be reassured or insulted.” The words slipped out before her wounded ego could check in with her brain.

Dave’s gaze dipped to her mouth, lingering there a fraction longer than was necessary. His eyes came back to mesh with hers, and her heart gave an odd little thump. She had to summon every bit of willpower she possessed and then some not to glance at his mouth. She wondered if he kissed hard, soft, or somewhere in between. Her mind suddenly filled with images of them making love, her limbs entangled with his, her senses singing from his touch, and his mouth clamped to hers in passion. A passion she could only imagine because she had never experienced it herself.

“It would only complicate things if we were to have a normal relationship.” His voice had a rough edge, as if something were clogging his throat. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Lea turned and went back to the pot simmering on the cooktop behind her. Her body was simmering too. Smouldering with new sensations and longings, she had no idea how to control. Had his ‘proposal’ unlocked something in her? Made her aware of herself in a way she hadn’t been before? Aware of her needs, the needs she had ignored and denied—she always told herself no one would ever want to marry her.

She took the lid off the pot, picked up the spoon, and gave the casserole a couple of stirs. “Will you continue to have casual lovers during our marriage?”

“No. That’s something else that wouldn’t be fair to you. And I would hope you would refrain from any dalliances yourself.”

Good.

Lea put the spoon down again and placed the lid back on the pot with a clang. “You don’t have to worry about that score. I haven’t had a casual lover my entire adult life.”

Why did you tell him that?

There was another pulsing silence.

Dave came to her side of the island bench and stood next to her near the cooktop. Her body went on high alert, every nerve and cell aware of his closeness. Not touching, but close enough to do so if either of them moved half a step.

“But you’ve had lovers, right?”

Lea turned her head to glance at him, hoping he would put her flaming cheeks down due to her proximity to the simmering pot in front of her. “Not as many as you might think.” No way was she going to announce she was a twenty-six-year-old virgin. She moved from the cooktop to gather the serving utensils. “I haven’t opened any wine for dinner. Do you want to grab a bottle? We’ll be eating in the small green dining room since it’s just the two of us.”

“I’ll bring something up from the cellar.”

Just the two of us.

How cosy and intimate that sounded, but it wasn’t true. He would never have asked her to marry him if it hadn’t been for the strange conditions of his grandfather’s will. She had to remember that at all costs. This was a business deal. Nothing personal. Nothing lasting.

Nothing.

Lie!