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It was dark, the stars glittering in the sky like jewels, the grass soft beneath her feet. The air was warm and spiced with the scent of the apple trees.
But it wasn’t that that made her catch her breath.
There were fairy lights giving off a soft white glow in the darkness, wound around the branches of the apple trees, shining down on the thick blanket that had been laid beneath them. And on the blanket was laid the most delicious-looking food, from pregnancy-safe cheeses to fruit and delicious little savouries. There were also small cakes and chocolate truffles, and in a silver ice bucket, a bottle of her favourite sparkling water.
But that wasn’t even the best part.
The best part was Augustine standing beneath the apple trees in the glow of the lights, the gold strands in his dark hair gleaming. He wore a plain white shirt and dark trousers...simple clothing that only served to highlight the beauty of the man himself.
Her heart tightened.
He’s not here for romance, remember. He doesn’t love you and he never will, that’s what he said.
No, she knew that. He’d been very clear. So there shouldn’t be any reason why the loveliness of the scene should make her vision swim and her breath catch. Why the thought of him doing this for her because he loved her made her ache.
He was marrying her for the child’s sake, nothing more.
None of this was forher.
And why would it be? You don’t deserve his love even if he was going to give it to you.
No, that was true. She didn’t. But it would be nice to think that maybe, one day, she did deserve it. And that one day, maybe, she could have this, could have him and his love too. But that was always going to be too much to ask for, wasn’t it?
Winifred walked slowly under the apple trees and over to the blanket where he stood, trying very hard to not let even a hint of what she was feeling escape. She didn’t want to ruin the evening by bursting into tears.
‘This is beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘What’s the occasion?’
His gaze swept over her, intensity burning deep in the turquoise depths. ‘It’s an apology,’ he said. ‘For yesterday, and also...’ He took his hand out of his pocket, his fingers curled around a small black velvet box. ‘I wanted to do this properly.’
Everything tightened, her heartbeat accelerating. Because she knew what he was going to do. He was going to get down on one knee and propose, as if this was an engagement between two people who loved each other, and not a simple marriage of convenience.
She didn’t want him to all of a sudden. Because why? Why bother with the pretence? Why bother with the lights and the lovely dress and the food? She’d already agreed to marry him. There was no need for this performance.
‘It’s fine,’ she said quickly. ‘You don’t need to do this, Augustine.’
His dark brows lowered. ‘I don’t need to do what?’
‘Get down on one knee. Propose.’ She took a little breath. ‘Do all the lights and picnic. I don’t even need a ring. I’ve already agreed to marry you, so what is the point of all of this?’
An expression she didn’t understand rippled across his handsome face. ‘Why do you think? I want to be a good husband to you, Freddie. And that starts with a formal proposal.’
‘Does it?’ It felt threatening, all this romance with no substance, no feeling. A show. Just more lies. God, she was tired of lies. ‘I don’t need a formal proposal—I told you that already.’ She couldn’t seem to temper the edge in her voice. ‘I mean, I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. And I love the dress and the effort you’ve gone to for this. But...’
He’d gone very still. ‘But what?’
Perhaps she shouldn’t push this, ruin what would probably be a lovely night. But it felt wrong. It felt like buying into something dishonest and she was tired of the dishonesty. Tired of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Tired of pretending she didn’t feel what she felt. And she was tired of him pretending too.
‘You don’t love me, Augustine,’ she said flatly. ‘You’re marrying me because I’m pregnant. And all of this...’ She gestured. ‘Is just a show. It’s a performance. Except I don’t know who you’re performing for because I already know you don’t love me and that our marriage is just for our baby.’ And then understanding abruptly hit her. ‘Oh, I know. You’re doing this for your father, aren’t you?’
Augustine’s expression hardened. ‘He’s got nothing to do with it. I’mdoing this because I want to.’
But of course his father had something to do with it. He had everything to do with it. This was about Augustine trying to live up to his example, to do the things that were expected of him, even if that wasn’t what he wanted for himself.
And that was another question. What did he want for himself? Did he even know?
‘Do you? Do you really?’ She stared up at him. ‘Is this what you really want? To get down on one knee and propose to a woman you don’t love, so you can have a wife you don’t want? All for a child you never planned on having in the first place?’
His fingers curled suddenly around the velvet box, a muscle jumping in the side of his strong jaw. ‘I never said I didn’t want any of those things. I said I couldn’t. There’s a difference. I only want to make you happy, Freddie.’
