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“Of course. But in the beginning, I was skeptical about how quickly Alec fell in love with her. Everything happened very quickly between them. They’d known each other only a few weeks before Alec proposed.”

“And Cara was an American, and not from a similar background.”

Baird shrugged. “I did wonder if she was a gold digger.”

Ella didn’t like that description at all. “When did you realize she wasn’t?”

“As soon as I met her. But even if I had disapproved it wouldn’t have mattered. Alec was smitten. He wasn’t going to lose her. All I had to do was draw up the prenuptial agreement—”

“He made her sign a prenup?” Ella interrupted horrified.

“Cara didn’t mind. She understood that Langley Park and the various Sherbourne estates had to remain in the family—”

“And you put together the prenup? This was your doing?”

“If it wasn’t me, it would have been another attorney. He had to do it. It’s to protect the family.”

“Cara was becoming his family!”

He shook his head, exasperated. “I should have never mentioned it. I thought you were reasonable, and you’d understand the legal ramifications for both of them, and how they both needed to be protected, which is what a prenuptial agreement does.”

“And yet you’ve already said you are Alec’s friend and you’re loyal to him.”

“I brought in an attorney to meet with Cara and explain everything to her. There was no intimidation, no coercion. You are the one making it sound sordid.”

“Because it is sordid! A prenup assumes that the marriage won’t work. It might as well be a curse.”

“That is dramatic and inaccurate. A prenup protects everyone, including future children. No one wants a family torn apart, much less dragged through court.”

“I suppose a lawyer would look at it that way.” She shook her head, so aggravated she couldn’t think straight. “I can’t do this, not tonight, not on Christmas Eve. I’m going to go to bed and hopefully in the morning this was all just a bad dream.”

“I’m not the villain, Ella.”

“Maybe not, but you’re certainly not the hero, Baird.”

*

Baird was stillawake in his cottage bedroom when he received a late-night call from his dad in Melbourne saying Aunt Kate, his dad’s sister, was having a hard time and was there any way Baird could pop in and see her? Maybe spend Christmas Day with her?

The last thing Baird wanted to do at eleven was begin a five hour drive, but he had a soft spot for his Aunt Kate, a recent widow, whose only child moved to America fifteen years ago.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” Baird told his father. “Don’t say anything to her,” he added. “I’ll surprise her in the morning.”

After hanging up, Baird quickly dressed and packed his travel bag. He glanced around his now empty room, making sure he had everything before descending the stairs and heading outside to start the drive home.

He hadn’t planned on leaving in the night, but once he was on the freeway, which was virtually empty at midnight, he rolled his window down and drove fast, letting the cold air clear his head.

This was the right thing to do, go home. Extract himself from Langley Park. And Ella. He didn’t want to battle her, and he didn’t agree with her, and no matter how mad she got at him, it wasn’t going to change him, or his point of view.

*

Ella woke upand stretched, sleepy but rested. Had she finally kicked jet lag?

Lying in her warm bed, she listened, aware of the stillness. It was Christmas. Christmas morning. She listened again, wondering if maybe she could hear Baird singing, wanting to hear his lovely voice again, singing another haunting hymn, but the cottage was quiet, and then she remembered how she’d gone to bed mad at Baird and guilt filled her. She’d been a little harsh, but he’d been impossible. Who could hate marriage that much?

Did he owe her an apology, or did she owe him one? It was confusing but also disappointing. She didn’t like fighting with him and last night they’d quarreled twice. With someone else she wouldn’t have even bothered. She would have bit her tongue and continued on, but Baird wasn’t just anyone and she couldn’t believe he’d be so negative… so pessimistic.

How to reconcile someone who sang like an angel with a man who couldn’t yield or bend?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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