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‘Well, if we must sit in luxury while free drinks and food are pressed on us then I suppose we must. Seriously, Daisy. Thank you. This is incredibly thoughtful.’
Daisy shifted uncomfortably, guilt clamping her stomach. Not so much thoughtful as expedient. She hurriedly changed the subject. ‘I’m going to spend Wednesday night at the studio. Vi was insistent that I have some kind of hen night. Obviously I didn’t want anything big so it’s going to be a family-only films and pampering night. I’ve told her I’m not drinking for the sake of my skin. I must be more of a demanding bride than I realised. She completely bought it. I might stay there Thursday night too. It’s meant to be bad luck to spend the night before together.’
‘I guess we need all the luck we can get.’ His voice was dry.
‘Are you going to have a stag night?’
The shock on his face was almost comical. ‘It hadn’t even occurred to me! Maybe I should go to the local pub for a couple of drinks—just to add convincing detail to the wedding.’
‘What a method actor you are.’ But the rest of her conversation with Violet was running through her mind. ‘Vi also asked about the honeymoon.’
Seb froze; she could see his knuckles turn white and hurried on. ‘I said that we were planning something later on and were too busy right now. I don’t think she’s wholly convinced but when I tell them about the baby I’m sure they’ll forget all about whether we did or did not go away.’
‘Do you want a honeymoon?’
To her horror Daisy felt her mouth quiver. She gulped down an unexpected sob as it tried to force its way out. She had told herself so many times that she was at peace with her decision, that she was almost happy with her situation—and then she’d be derailed and have to start convincing herself all over again. ‘Of course not.’ She could hear the shakiness of her voice. ‘I think we’re doing brilliantly under the circumstances but a honeymoon might be a bit too much pressure.’
‘Are you sure?’
She nodded, hoping he wasn’t looking too closely. That he didn’t see the suspicious shine in her eyes as she blinked back tears. ‘Besides, I’m pregnant. No cocktails on the beach or exotic climates for me.’
‘Is that what you would want?’
Yes. Of course it was. That was what people did, wasn’t it? Flew to beautiful islands and drank rum and snorkelled in the sun, making love all night in a tangle of white sheets on mahogany beds.
Lovely in theory. Would the reality live up? ‘Actually, I think I would want something a little less clichéd. Amazing scenery I could photograph, good food. History. The Alps maybe, Greece, the Italian coast.’
‘A friend of mine has a villa on Lake Garda, right on the water’s edge. I could see if it’s free?’
For one moment she wavered. The Italian lakes. A private villa overlooking the lake sounded sublime. But they would still be pretending and without their work, without the routine of their everyday lives, how would they manage? ‘No.’ Her voice was stronger. ‘Honestly. I’m absolutely fine.’
To her relief as she said the words the lights went down and Seb leaned forward, all his attention on the stage in front, leaving Daisy free to imagine a different kind of honeymoon. One where both parties wanted to be there, were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t need anyone or anything else. The kind of honeymoon she had always dreamed of and now knew she would never have.
* * *
It just wasn’t adding up.
The Georgian part of the castle needed a new roof, ideally rewiring and, with the baby due before Christmas, Seb really should sort out some of the ancient plumbing problems as well.
The work he had been doing on the estate land was already paying dividends and the farms and forests were looking healthy. It was just the castle.
Just. Just one thousand years of history, family pride and heritage. No big deal.
Seb tried to avoid his grandfather’s eye, staring balefully out of a portrait on the far wall. He knew how much his grandfather had hated the idea of using the castle for profit—but surely he would have hated it falling around his ears much more.
But how far could Seb go? He was allowing a location agency to put the castle on their books, ready to hire it out for films and TV sets. It felt like a momentous step.
But not a big enough one.
Meanwhile there was the book to finish researching—and he was already halfway through his sabbatical. Just returning to Oxford for a day had reminded him how time consuming his teaching and administrative duties were.
Something was going to have to give and soon. It wasn’t an easy decision.
