The Wedding Proposal

by Sue Moorcroft

  Shocked at the words that had poured from her mouth, Elle stood looking at the doorway through which Lucas had vanished. Where had her anger come from? It had been like she was possessed: her lips had opened but the voice of a furious demon came out.

  Since she’d seen Joanna installed in her new room at The Briars and tied things up with the police so far as she could for the present, Elle’s head had buzzed with conjecture about how matters would stand between her and Lucas when she got back to Malta. She’d hung around to pay a few afternoon visits to her mother, wanting to see if Joanna’s confusion would lessen once in the familiarity of The Briars, but finally had to acknowledge that Joanna’s ability to recognise her daughter was random. Elle’s presence was largely irrelevant.

  So she’d booked a flight with a sense of relief at removing herself from any fallout from Ricky or his mates, but also a sense of returning to face the music. Well, now she knew what tune was playing – a crashing bashing discord.

  Loz came down and popped her head into the cabin. ‘All right?’ she squeaked tentatively.

  Forcing herself to return to her unpacking, Elle nodded brightly. ‘Fine.’

  Loz hovered. ‘Maybe you should get a nap before the party? You can be a guest, you know, you don’t have to do anything.’

  ‘I’d rather keep busy.’

  ‘Davie’s gone to do the shopping. You and me can throw a few salads into bowls.’

  Elle nodded.

  Loz came properly into the cabin, expression doleful. ‘I’m sorry I opened my big mouth. When you agreed it was OK to invite Lucas to the party I assumed you’d told him you were back.’

  ‘I was going to go along when I’d unpacked.’ Elle blinked back the tears pricking like hot pins in the corners of her eyes. Finally, Loz seemed to get that Elle wasn’t feeling chatty, and melted away. Elle stowed her case and took a shower. Then she pulled on clean shorts and a top and settled herself on the bed to text Joseph and say she was back while she reacquainted herself with the feeling of a boat moving beneath her. The breeze was up and the motion was lively. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to find her sea legs all over again. She supposed she ought to go along to the galley and see if Loz had got started with the party food yet. But she felt tired and heavy – maybe she would take that nap.

  She rolled down onto the bed and covered her eyes with her arm.

  Probably she did doze, because suddenly she became aware of Lucas standing in the doorway of her cabin once again.

  ‘Can I show you something?’ He didn’t smile, but his earlier anger seemed gone. He looked composed.

  She blinked. ‘Now?’

  ‘Now would be good.’

  Curiously, she slid her feet into mules and followed him up to the deck. The heat hit her as she left the air conditioning and she squinted in the brightness, wishing she’d grabbed her sunglasses. Despite Lucas’s silence as he moved easily beside her along the quayside, and there being nothing to give her a clue to his mood or their destination, she felt her heart lift to once again feel the warm breeze in her hair and see the boats bobbing gently in the sunshine. This, more than the England she’d just left, felt like where she wanted to be.

  When they reached the Shady Lady Lucas jumped across to the bathing platform without shoving the gangplank into place. Warily, Elle took the hand he extended, warm and strong, and jumped after him. Jogging lightly through the sliding doors, into the coolness of the saloon and down the galley steps, Lucas didn’t pause.

  He opened the door to the master cabin. Stepped inside. Turned and waited.

  Cautiously, Elle stepped into the small area behind him. The bed looked freshly made in the light streaming in from the skylights and there wasn’t a thing out of place.

  Lucas pulled out the drawers under the bed, opened the lockers and the wardrobe. All empty.

  ‘What am I supposed to be looking at?’ Elle demanded, bewildered.

  ‘Space.’ Finally, he smiled. ‘I’m giving you space. All this space is yours. I’m in the guest cabin.’ Then he stepped closer to her, so close that she could smell his shampoo and feel the heat leaking from his skin. ‘Until you tell me you want me in here again.’

  Elle looked from empty wardrobe to empty drawers to freshly made bed. ‘Got it.’

  This time, it was Elle who turned and walked away.

  Chapter Thirty

  Lucas watched Elle as she moved between groups at the party. She looked coolly beautiful in her long black dress with golden flowers. Her hair was twisted up into a clasp, leaving the back of her neck looking soft and vulnerable as she fetched drinks and handed out canapés.

  His parents were trying to engage him in conversation but he kept his focus on Elle. Beautiful Elle, fragile yet strong.

  Gradually, his parents fell silent as Elle worked her way towards them, a bottle of white wine in one hand and red in the other, filling glasses, smiling, pausing to talk. Finally, she stood before them.

  ‘Good evening,’ she greeted them, formally. ‘More wine?’ She topped up Fiona’s glass without waiting for her reply, and then shifted her gaze to Fiona’s face. ‘I talked to the Bettsbrough police and made a statement. I got the feeling that they wanted to chat to Ricky about all kinds of skeevy stuff he’s been up to so I told them that I thought I could get him to a place where they could easily nab him for questioning. They agreed that such scenarios often work, gave me the support I required, and Ricky was arrested. The town centre CCTV caught his physically oppressive behaviour towards me, which should help.’

  Fiona’s jaw dropped a notch. ‘I see.’

  ‘So they’ll probably be in touch with you when you get back.’ Challenge was written all over Elle’s face. ‘And I don’t think you’ll gain the impression that they’re investigating me. So then you’ll know that I’m not guilty of fraud or deception or anything else shady.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Fiona, uncertainly.

  Elle was being so valiant, so brave, so visibly I-will-not-take-your-shit that Lucas wanted to gather her into his arms and hug her until she gasped. But he’d sworn to wait for her to invite him into her space. So far, that invitation was conspicuous by its absence. He contented himself by saying, ‘That’s fantastic!’

  Elle switched her grave regard to him. ‘No it’s not. It’s a deeply embarrassing necessity, but I evidently couldn’t rely on anybody simply taking my word for what happened and cutting the oxygen to Ricky’s fires.’

  Lucas winced.

  Fiona cleared her throat. ‘Thank you for telling us.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ mumbled Geoffrey.

  Elle nodded and went to move on.

  Fiona continued to speak. ‘This is a wonderful motor yacht. You must enjoy living here.’

  For several seconds Elle gazed at Lucas’s mother. Then, clearly, she said, ‘I’m the help. Loz and Davie are Simon’s friends. They’re lovely people and have been fantastically kind to me but I do their shopping and cleaning. I haven’t suddenly gone up in the world.’

  Flushing, Fiona sidestepped the issue of social status. ‘I want to thank you for helping Charlie and apologise for not thanking you sooner. He’s safely back in England, now.’

  ‘Yes, Lucas told me. I like Charlie.’ Elle said it in the tone of one who didn’t like many people at the moment. ‘Excuse me.’ She moved onto the next group of people with a smile. ‘More wine?’

  Lucas smothered a laugh.

  Fiona tried to quell him with a frown. ‘Well! I suppose she thought she was putting me in my place.’

  ‘Quite,’ agreed Geoffrey. ‘I suppose it gave her some satisfaction not to grasp the olive branch.’

  ‘Dad,’ said Lucas, ‘if either of you think that that was an olive branch, you have a lot to learn about trees. And as far as putting you in your place is concerned, I think she succeeded.
’ He liked the pugnacious side to Elle he’d just seen. He let his eyes follow her. When she let her gaze slide back his way under her lashes he lifted his glass to her in a silent toast and had the pleasure of seeing her flush.

  At that moment, Loz appeared in the doorway to the saloon, giggling. Beside her was a tall dark man, brushing his wavy hair out of his eyes and grinning. ‘Elle,’ Loz called across the saloon. ‘Someone here to see you.’

  Lucas felt his smile falter as Elle turned and after a stunned instant, cried out in pleasure and pelted across the saloon. ‘Simon! Oh, Simon.’

  Simon opened his arms and swept her up into a huge hug. Behind his back, Loz hastily relieved Elle of the wine bottles.

  ‘Simon?’ said Fiona, blankly. ‘I didn’t realise they were that friendly.’

  ‘I had no idea that he was over here.’ Geoffrey sounded as if he felt he should have been apprised.

  As the rest of the guests gradually stopped craning their necks and returned to their own conversations, Lucas watched Elle and Simon hug and hug, laughing, talking over one another, laughing and hugging again, and he felt as if someone had opened up his chest and let an icy wind breathe over his heart.

  Elle looked so happy to see Simon. Though Lucas had once joked about it, there was nothing lover-like about their embrace and nothing in their body language to suggest romantic love. Just open joy and huge friendly hugs.

  But he could see something in Elle’s face that made him want to turn away.

  It was trust. In Simon’s arms, Elle felt safe.

  Elle disengaged herself in the end, still laughing and joking as she collected her wine bottles and prepared to resume her duties.

  Simon made his way over to join his family. He shook hands with Geoffrey and Lucas and kissed Fiona briefly on her cheek. ‘Can we talk?’ he said. ‘Loz says we can use the sky lounge.’

  They followed him up to a lounge above the main saloon. From its many windows they had an impressive view of the yachts up and down the creek.

  Simon seated himself in a black leather chair, took his glasses out of his top pocket and put them on to look keenly around at everybody. ‘Tell me I’m not really the only one that Elle had confided the whole story to.’

  A cold lump settled in the pit of Lucas’s stomach. ‘Have you known the truth about Ricky all along?’

  ‘I believe so.’ Simon shook his head, as if disappointed.

  Fiona sat up indignantly. ‘I’m not sure any of us can be held accountable for not being told the truth.’

  ‘I can,’ said Lucas, rawly. ‘And I’m not proud of myself that she never felt she could confide in me. She went to lengths to conceal from me what she thought I wouldn’t understand. She couldn’t trust me to trust her.’

  Geoffrey sighed. ‘I’m afraid you were very hard on her, Fiona. I can see why she didn’t feel she could confide in us.’

  Fiona swung on him. ‘Me hard on her?’ she demanded, incredulously. ‘What about you?’

  Geoffrey sucked his lips and screwed up his eyes as if weighing up the rights and wrongs of a case. ‘I believe I mainly reserved judgement,’ he decided. ‘You were the vocal one.’

  Fiona jumped up in disgust. ‘You’re rewriting history, Geoffrey. You were plenty vocal about her behind the scenes. You just let me be the mouthpiece for us both, as always. For goodness sake, stop being so pompous. Let’s go and get a stiff gin.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Geoffrey, taking refuge in yet more pomposity as he followed her out. ‘Drink scarcely encourages you to watch what you say, darling.’

  Lucas was left alone with his uncle. ‘Thanks for being there for her,’ he said. ‘She certainly needed a friend.’

  Elle was tired. Her face ached from smiling and her hands ached from being permanently clenched around the necks of wine bottles.

  Her earlier ability to confront and engage felt now as if it had been a dream. Lucas and Simon had disappeared. Fiona had spent most of the party in the company of Loz and Davie and their cocktail shaker, while Geoffrey had found a retired court official and had passed the evening talking shop.

  Elle yawned as she put down the wine and retired to the galley. It seemed to her that most people had already drunk their body weight in alcohol and she’d be doing them no favours by pressing more on them. She was loading the dishwasher when Loz trotted in, fingers across her mouth to hide her grin.

  ‘Ooh er,’ Loz whispered. ‘Lucas’s mum’s not feeling very well.’

  Startled, Elle straightened up. ‘Is it serious?’

  Loz’s eyes shone with mischief. ‘Nothing that wasn’t caused by Davie’s latest cocktails. She’s been tossing down Irish Trash Cans and Pink Pantie Droppers as if they were lemonade. I’m not sure I want to tell Geoffrey. He seems in a bit of a surly mood.’

  Elle wrestled briefly with her conscience, and then closed the dishwasher. ‘Where is she?’

  She discovered Fiona leaning miserably over the side deck rail.

  ‘I’m not well.’ Fiona sounded faintly surprised.

  ‘You’re pissed as a fart,’ Elle corrected her, frankly. ‘I’m sure watching the swell isn’t going to make you feel any better. Come on, I’ll get you some coffee.’ Taking Fiona by the elbow, puffing as she took some of the weight of the staggering woman, Elle steered her towards the companionway.

  Down in her cabin, Elle propped open the door to her en suite to allow rapid access; then helped Fiona down onto the bed. ‘I’ll see what I can rustle up to make you feel better.’

  In a few minutes, she returned from the galley with iced water, black coffee and ginger ale, hoping that one of these so-called ‘remedies’ would help sober Fiona up.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fiona, in a tiny voice, reaching for the coffee.

  Elle deposited the water and the ginger ale on the side table. ‘Thanking me twice in one evening? Be careful, you might hurt something.’

  Fiona covered her eyes. ‘Don’t hit a woman when she’s down. It’s an offence under the Sisterly Solidarity Act.’

  Surprised to actually find herself laughing, Elle went over to the control panel beside the door and turned the air con to its coldest.

  She remained with Fiona for almost an hour, pouring water and coffee into her and helping her to the loo when she needed to purge her system, muttering, ‘And you can bloody well come back and clean the head in the morning,’ as she closed the door to give what privacy she could to her mother-in-law-that-never-was.

  ‘Thank you,’ whimpered Fiona, miserably.

  When an insistent tapping sent Elle to her cabin door, she was unsurprised to find Geoffrey and Lucas outside. ‘Is Fiona here?’ Geoffrey burst in as if fully expecting to find Fiona tied to a chair and Elle sticking her with pins. He pulled up short at the sight of his wife staggering miserably between the bathroom and Elle’s bed. ‘You’re drunk!’ He wrinkled his nose.

  Irked by his righteousness, Elle jammed her hands on her hips. ‘It’s not a crime not to be a good sailor, for goodness’ sake. Haven’t you noticed that there’s a swell on? She feels very sick. Chill. You’re not at the bench now, magistrate.’

  ‘On the bench,’ Lucas corrected softly.

  Elle’s fierce glare didn’t waver. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Ah.’ Geoffrey looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I assumed— Ah, sorry, Fiona. Shall we go back to the hotel, darling? I’ll find our hosts and explain, and see how I get a taxi.’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Fiona clamped a hand over her eyes, piteously.

  Geoffrey hurried off, and there was silence. Elle looked from Fiona to Lucas. Lucas looked at Elle and smiled, his eyes half closed.

  Fiona gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I hope you understand why I didn’t correct the impression you gave him. It’s just that Geoffrey does rather overreact to anyone having one too many and I already
have a headache.’

  ‘I didn’t tell him you weren’t drunk,’ Elle pointed out. ‘I merely said that it was no crime not to be a good sailor. It’s up to you whether you own up.’

  Lucas snorted with laughter. ‘You ought to have been a lawyer, Elle.’

  Elle looked at him balefully. ‘I don’t take that as a compliment.’

  ‘But it’s an interesting point. Are you going to tell Dad the truth, Mum?’ Lucas transferred his attention to his hapless mother.

  Fiona clutched her head. ‘I’m a lawyer. Which truth?’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Elle sat on the aft deck alone with Simon. As both Elle and Simon were staying on board Seadancer, Loz and Davie hadn’t felt they had to be the last ones standing at their party, and had tottered off to their cabin.

  Elle gave Simon a hug. ‘It’s so fantastic to see you again.’ She beamed into his crinkling eyes. His dark hair might be silvering above his ears but there was something of the free spirit about him, despite all his business success.

  Simon smothered a yawn. ‘It was worth it just to hear the story of you confronting your ex and enticing him into the open for the cops to handle. That must have been really hard. Confronting Ricky, confronting your past and your anxieties about him implicating you. It took guts.’

  Elle answered his yawn with one of her own. She wanted to go to sleep but she wanted to talk to Simon more. ‘It felt as if it was time Ricky’s hold over me was broken. You’re so sweet. It’s hard to think of you as Geoffrey’s brother.’

  Simon threw back his head to laugh. ‘I guess that’s supposed to be a compliment so I’ll take it as one.’

  She giggled. ‘Sorry. I’m being rude about your family.’ She reached behind her head and freed her hair from its clasp, pushing her fingers through it and enjoying the sensation of the breeze whisking it around.

  He gazed out across the moonlit gardens. ‘I understand from Geoffrey and Fiona that you and Lucas …?’ He paused, delicately.

  She swallowed. ‘It was looking good. But that was then.’