Chapter 6
Dave spent longer than he needed to choose a wine from the well-stocked Brathellae cellar. He remembered the bottle of vintage champagne he’d selected when he’d gotten engaged to Susannah. How excited he’d felt, how ready he’d felt for the commitment he’d made. He had imagined himself to be in love, and she was in love with him. He had been Lea’s age—twenty-six. Susannah had been two years younger, with a host of issues he had been completely oblivious to until it was too late.
Mary had compelled him to settle down as soon as he could. With hindsight, he could see now how many signs he’d missed about the suitability of Susannah, even his own readiness for such a permanent commitment. He’d had no way of knowing how that night of celebrating his engagement would end less than a year later, in her death. How could he have been so ignorant of the demons she’d battled on a daily basis?
What did that say about him?
It said he wasn’t relationship material, that’s what it said. Or, at least, not that sort of relationship. Promising to love someone no matter what and making a long-term commitment were things he could no longer do. Would never do. He had been so far away, chasing adventures and treasures, that he never noticed the changes in her. It was his fault. He had been too selfish and uncaring about Susannah.
But a paper marriage to save his ancestral home was something he could do, and he did it willingly.
Dave selected a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge in the cellar next to the racks of vintage wine. His upcoming marriage to Lea might not be a real one in every sense of the word, but it was surely worth celebrating their joint commitment to save Brathellae.
A few minutes later, Lea wheeled the serving trolley into the green dining room rather than risk carrying plates and dishes. Because of the muscle grafts performed to keep her leg functioning as best as it could, it was often weaker and more painful at the end of the day. And the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself by losing her balance again and needing Dave’s assistance. She was already feeling a little nervous about having dinner with him.
In the early days, Aunt Elsie had been very old-school about dining with the family upstairs and had always insisted Lea eat in the kitchen with her. But since the death of Dave’s grandmother, the rules have been relaxed, as Angus Borthman has appreciated the company at dinner to get him through the long, lonely evenings.
But she had never dined alone with Dave, not since Mary and Tyler’s wedding in Chicago.
The green dining room was one of Lea's favourite rooms in the castle. It had windows that overlooked the loch on the estate and the Highlands beyond. She left the curtains open as the moon had risen and was shining a bolt of shimmering silver across the crushed silk surface of the water.
Dave came back from the cellar just as Lea was straightening the settings on the table. He was carrying a bottle of French champagne in one hand and holding two crystal glasses by the stems in the other.
“I seem to recall you like champagne. But if you’d prefer wine..."
“No, I love champagne. It’s my favourite drink.” She raised her brows when she saw the label. “Gosh, that’s a good one. But should we be wasting it on an everyday dinner?”
He placed the glasses on the table and began to remove the foil covering and wire from the cork. “This isn’t an everyday dinner. Tonight, we’re celebrating our success in saving Brathellae. That’s worth ten thousand bottles of this drop.”
Lea watched as he deftly removed the cork and poured the champagne into the two crystal glasses. He handed her a glass and raised his own glass in a toast. “To save Brathellae.’
She sipped the champagne, savouring the honey and lavender notes as they burst on her tongue. “Um, clever…lovely. Nice. This is amazing.”
Dave put his glass down and reached for something inside his trouser pocket. “I have something for you.” He took out a vintage emerald-green velvet ring box and handed it to her.
Lea knew exactly what was inside the box. She’d helped Aunt Elsie pack away Dave’s grandmother’s things when Margaret Borthman died from complications after routine surgery. The collection of beautiful heirloom jewellery had fascinated Lea so much that she had secretly looked at it on many occasions when no one had been around. She knew the code to the safe where it was kept and had even tried various pieces on, looking at herself in the mirror, pretending she was a princess about to be married to the handsome prince of her dreams.
Lea put her champagne glass down, peeled open the lid of the box, and stared at the gorgeous Art Deco setting with its array of glittering diamonds. “Oh, my, I’d forgotten how beautiful your grandmother’s ring is.” She met his gaze. “But surely you don’t want me to wear it? I mean, given the circumstances of our marriage,?”
His expression was largely unreadable, all except for the way his eyes dipped into her mouth before going back to mesh with hers. “My grandmother would want you to have it. She was fond of you. Try it on. See if it fits. We can have it resized if not.”
Lea already knew how well it fit but didn’t want to reveal her guilty secret. She took the ring out of the box, a part of her disappointed that he wasn’t the one slipping it over her finger for her, just as a man deeply in love with his fiancée would do. But nothing about their engagement was normal, so how silly of her to wish for things she couldn’t have.
But as if Dave had suddenly read her mind, he held out his palm for the ring. “Here—let me do that. I believe it’s my job.” There was a strange quality to his voice, a low, deep chord of some unidentifiable emotion.
Lea placed the ring in the middle of his palm and held her breath as he took her hand in his. Her fingers were so white against the tan of his, and her skin was alive with sensations—tingly, fizzing sensations—that sent tiny zaps of electricity to the far reaches of her body.
He slid the ring over the knuckles of her ring finger and smiled when it met no resistance. “It’s like it was made for you.”
She was so captivated by his smile that she forgot to look down at the ring on her finger. It had been years since she had seen him give a genuine smile. Not one of those half-baked twists of his mouth, but a real smile that involved his eyes, making them crinkle attractively at the corners. He looked younger, less stressed, and more approachable. The grief-damaged landscape of his face was restored to one of hope instead of quiet despair. He was still holding her hand, his fingers as warm and gentle as if he were holding a kitten.
The atmosphere changed as if there were a sudden change in time. A stillness. A silence waiting with bated breath for something to happen...
Lea couldn’t tear her gaze away from his mouth, couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to feel his lips against her own. She moistened her own lips with a darting movement of her tongue, her heart giving an extra beat like a musician misreading a musical score. “I—I don’t know what to say."