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I might be fudging the timeline just a little bit, but Magda’s look of jubilant surprise is worth it. She rushes over, hugging me excitedly. I let myself enjoy it for a few moments, putting an arm around her and closing my eyes. I am not exactly starved for touch but it’s not every day that I have Magda around. My life is not full of people that I feel like hugging.
The rest of my family is so cutthroat. And the women I usually sleep with are only interested in a few hours between the sheets, not in hugging.
When Magda steps back, she blots her eyes with her apron. "I’m so happy. You found a good one with her; I can feel it."
I can feel the back of my neck heat slightly. "Thank you."
"What is her last name?"
I squint. "Talia Chance."
"And what does she do for a living?"
Magda fills my mug with water and places it before me. I drum my thumb against the cool stainless steel of the kitchen islands.
"I don’t know. She works in a bookstore. It doesn’t really matter. She will have to give up any job that she currently has when she marries me."
Magda studies me for a moment and then starts pulling out a pot and some potatoes for a future meal. "Does Talia know that?"
I scowl. "She is fine with it. Or rather, she will be."
Magda doesn’t bother looking at me, but I can hear her disapproval in her voice as she begins sorting the potatoes. "Dare, you tend to decide important things without considering the feelings of others. So, does she really feel like she can just give up her work? Or is that something that you have decided for her?"
I dunk my teabag in my mug and take a sip. "She’ll be fine with it. Trust me."
Magda straightens her back and wipes her hands on her apron, giving me a wary look. "I think you are taking the race to get married and have a baby too seriously. Perhaps you should slow down a little and think this through."
Setting my mug down, I push myself to my feet. Magda is the only person with whom I feel comfortable enough to be chastised by. But she is not helping the situation by asking questions like this.
I walk around the large kitchen island, touching Magda’s arm gently. "I know who I’m marrying. I know what I am doing. You have done a great job of looking out for me for so many years. But I need you to support me now. No more questions, no more poking the bear."
Magda smiles at me a little sadly and reaches up to pat my cheek. "Of course, my darling. I only want what is best for you."
Giving Magda a quick hug, I force a smile onto my lips.
My good mood has vanished now, turning sour under the light that she has shed on it. Perhaps my marriage is more delicate than it seems.
"I have to go," I say. "But I will bring Talia around to see you again. Okay?"
She smiles and starts rolling up her sleeves. "Of course. I’ll be here." She turns away, walking over to turn on the tap.
I use my shoulder to push through the swinging door and emerge into the hallway, a sigh on my lips.
One thing has become clear to me. If my engagement couldn’t stand up to Magda’s gentle questioning, it will need a more solid foundation. I must make everyone believe that I am head over heels for Talia. That’s the only way to make our short courtship seem like a romantic thing rather than the rushed hatchet job that it really is.
I’ll have to know much more about her and be able to answer questions about her life. Plus, I’ll have to be more comfortable touching her. And she will have to look like she is infatuated with me in return. We will both have to pretend not to hate each other to pull this ruse off. We will need to rehearse.
On my way to the front of the mansion, I run into Clive. He is on his knees in the foyer, his shirt sleeves rolled up, with a small silver mirror on a piece of newspaper on the floor. He is removing screws from the back of the mirror, his attention riveted.
I walk up to him, surprising him with a few words.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
His body jolts, clutching his chest, and he looks at me with great alarm.
"Oh! Mr. Morgan, I didn’t see you coming." He exhales a shaky breath. "I’m just repairing this mirror so that it can be hung back on the wall."
He starts to stand up, but I wave him down. "No, no, don’t get up. I am on my way out the door."
