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I’m not surprised when she punches me in the arm, but I shout and wince as if she’s injured me. Old childhood habits die hard.
‘Numpty,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘By the way, how is it that the word “bachelor” sounds so dashing and debonair and evokes images of Hugh Grant, whilst “spinster” makes me think of a dried-up old prune, knitting in her rocking chair until the movement lulls her to sleep for an afternoon nap?’
‘You’d better get married soon, Mari, my love, or you’ll be a spinster for the duration,’ I continue, ribbing her and enjoying deflecting her attention away from my sorry situation.
‘Seriously, though,’ she says. ‘Lizzy Archer is fabulous, but when I saw you together in the photo, the first thing I thought was she’s not your type at all. There’s the obvious thing—you usually go for blondes, and she’s a brunette—but it’s not just that. I can’t put my finger on it. You don’t look like a couple. It was as if they’d stuck you together in the photo, and you barely know each other.’ She takes a huge swig of her wine and fixes me with a stare, her eyes challenging me to explain.
Nothing much gets past her, and we’ve always been close, so I’m not overly shocked that she’s onto me. ‘Perhaps, after the shambles of my marriage, I want a different type,’ I say.
‘Perhaps,’ she says, narrowing her eyes. ‘How is Nathalie, by the way?’ Marian is shrewd and I don’t doubt there is a motive for her question.
‘Nathalie is great. Daisy is madly in love with her. To be honest, I don’t know how well me getting married will go down with Daisy. She came home a while back asking me if I was going to marry a mean lady like her school friend’s father did. What do you say to that?’
Marian laughs and then she comes right out and says it. ‘My guess is she would approve of you marrying Nathalie, though, right?’
My heart’s beating to a fast jagged rhythm as I toy with my napkin, and after a pause, I say, ‘Don’t be silly, sis. You know we Rochesters can’t marry regular peeps.’
Marian rolls her eyes. ‘Well, I’m going to marry for love,’ she says. ‘That’s if I decide to marry at all. This whole expectation that Grandfather must approve our marriages is archaic.’ She drops her voice and leans into me as she talks.
I laugh. ‘Good luck with that. I agree with you, but Grandfather doesn’t seem like he’s about to change the terms of his will, so if you do marry without his approval, make sure they are worth it. You might just lose your shares and your seat on the board in the name of love.’
Dinner passes in a haze of laughter and chatting across the table, and then we retire to the drawing room. Daisy falls asleep draped across my mother’s knee, so I pick her up and settle her into bed upstairs, leaving the night light on in case she wakes up and forgets where she is.
Honey escorts us upstairs, wagging her tail, and then follows me back downstairs and into the drawing room where the others are lolling on the sofas looking lethargic after the heavy meal.
Caspian wanders over to stand beside me and we talk about the usual football and business highlights. Isabella is talking animatedly to Marian, and they look as though they’ve hit it off.
‘Isabella looks right at home.’ Lowering my voice, I say, ‘What’s going on with you two? I thought you were just having a relationship of convenience. Must be heating up for you to bring her here?’
Caspian shakes his head. ‘Not really, but Grandfather’s been dialling up the heat on me and insists I start thinking about marriage. Issy has her own family dynamics to deal with, so it seemed like a good idea for us to act like we’re serious.’
‘And?’ I ask.
‘And what?’
‘And have you fooled him? Did Grandfather fall for it and think you’re in a genuine relationship?’
He shrugs his wide shoulders and runs one hand through his thick shock of dark hair. Caspian is famous for his striking looks. Whilst some say we’re a good-looking bunch, Caspian has a way about him that drives women out of their minds. His rebellious nature makes him seem unattainable and for as long as I can remember, he’s had droves of girls chasing him. He’s never given any of them much attention, so this is significant, no matter what he says.
‘Are you considering marriage?’ I probe, hands thrust deep in my pockets as I mull over the Rochester marriage conundrum.
‘I’m not sure what to do, to be honest. Issy would make the perfect wife, and she’s drop-dead gorgeous and from a comparable family, but I don’t know if I’d be able to live with a marriage of convenience even if she were to agree to it,’ he says, his voice laced with brooding.
‘How about you and Lizzy Archer?’ he says, diverting me away from his situation. ‘Was the Cannes dating for real or was that just a cover?’
I sigh. ‘Was it that obvious?’
Caspian chuckles. ‘Only to me, perhaps. I’ve had enough experience of fake dating to recognise it when I see it. Even if it is in print.’
Silence falls between us and we stand there, both lost in thought about how we’re going to fulfil Grandfather’s criteria.
‘Poor Grandfather,’ I say in a whisper, even though he already retired for the evening. ‘None of it is real. You and Isabella. Me and Lizzy.’
Caspian says, ‘We’re all living a lie.’
‘We’re no closer to marrying or, in my case, remarrying. And Marian swears she’ll only marry for loveifshe marries at all.’
‘It’s a difficult business,’ Caspian says.
