The Bartered Bride

‘A Labrador and a whippet. They were my sister’s until she got married. She and John were living in a minuscule cottage, both working flat out to raise money to set up the nursery, so the dogs were an encumbrance. It was better for them to stay here. It’s where they’ve always lived. When I go, Janie will walk them. She likes them and they like her.’

‘Janie?’

‘Our “treasure”’—wiggling her forefingers. ‘The person who opened the door to you.’

‘Does she live in?’

‘Yes, she’s been with us for years.’

‘How will your mother cope with life on her own when you leave home?’

‘It won’t bother her. She’s a naturally solitary person. It was having to leave the garden that was wrecking her. Her plants are her closest companions. She talks to them.’

‘My other grandmother does that. It sounds as if she and your mother have a lot in common,’ said Reid. He looked at his watch. ‘I must go if I’m going to be at the airport on time.’

‘It was a long way to come for such a short stay... especially when you must be tired from your trip.’

But he didn’t look jet-lagged, she thought. He had the air of someone who has just come back from a holiday on a high of energy and vitality.

Fran went with him to the car where, having unlocked it, he took off the coat of his suit and tossed it in the back. Then he took off his tie, a more conservative choice than the one he had worn when they dined together.

‘I thought I’d better look respectable when I came to ask for your hand,’ he said, rolling the tie round his fingers, his mouth straight but his eyes amused.

‘How ought I to dress to make a good impression on your family?’ Fran asked.

He looked at the sweatshirt, jeans and deck shoes she had put on to walk the dogs.

‘From what I’ve seen so far, you have an impeccable dress sense. Wear whatever seems appropriate.’

He put the tie in the car and unbuttoned the neckband of what, from the way it fitted the extra-broad span of his shoulders, had to be a made-to-measure shirt. With the collar open, exposing the base of his throat, he looked younger and less formidable.

‘By the way, I hope you don’t want an elaborate wedding. They take too long to organise. Also it seems to be one of Murphy’s laws that the more elaborate the wedding, the less chance there is of the couple making a go of it. I’m thinking of most of the weddings I’ve been to over the last ten years...and I’ve been to a lot.’

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