An Outrageous Proposal

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An Outrageous Proposal Page 7

by Maureen Child


  Normally, she loved this walk. On the right was the round tower that stood near an ancient cemetery on Ronan’s land. To her left was Lough Mask, a wide lake fringed by more trees swaying in the wind. In the distance, she heard the whisper of the ocean and the low grumbling of a farmer’s tractor. The sky above was a brilliant blue, and the wind that flew at her carried the chill of the sea.

  Georgia was too furious to feel the cold.

  Her steps were quick, and she kept her gaze focused on her target. The roof of Sean’s manor house was just visible above the tips of the trees, and she headed there with a steely determination.

  She crossed the field, walked into the wood and only then remembered Sean saying something about the faeries and how they might snatch her away.

  “Well, I’d like to see them try it today,” she murmured.

  Georgia came out of the thick stand of trees at the edge of Sean’s driveway. A wide gravel drive swung in a graceful arch in front of the stone-and-timber manor. Leaded windows glinted in the sunlight. As she neared the house, Sean stepped out and walked to meet her. He was wearing black slacks, a cream-colored sweater and a black jacket. His dark hair ruffled in the wind, and his hands were tucked into his pockets.

  “Georgia!” He grinned at her. “I was going to stop to see you on my way to hospital to check in on my mother.”

  She pushed her tangled hair back from her face and stomped the dew and grass from her knee-high black boots. She wore her favorite, dark green sweater dress, and the wind flipped the hem around her knees. She had one short flash that for something this big, she should have worn something better than a dress she’d had for five years. But then, she wasn’t really getting engaged, was she? It was a joke. A pretense.

  Just like her first marriage had been.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his smile fading as he really looked at her. Walking closer, he pulled his hands from his pockets and reached out to take hold of her shoulders.

  “Really not.” Georgia took a deep breath of the cold Irish air and willed it to settle some of the roaring heat she still felt inside. It didn’t work.

  “What’s wrong then?”

  There was real concern on his face and for that, she was grateful. Sean was exactly who he claimed to be. There was no hidden agenda with him. There were no secrets. He wouldn’t cheat on a woman and sneak out of town with every cent she owned. It wouldn’t even occur to him. She could admire that about him since she had already survived the man who was the exact opposite of Sean Connolly.

  That thought brought her right back to the reason for her mad rush across the open field.

  “You offered me a deal yesterday,” she said.

  “I did.”

  “Now I’ve got one for you.”

  Sean released her, but didn’t step back. His gaze was still fixed on her and concern was still etched on his face. “All right then, let’s hear it.”

  “I don’t even know where to start,” she said suddenly, then blurted out, “I just got an email from my cousin Misty. The woman my ex-husband ran off with.”

  “Ah.” He nodded as if he could understand now why she was so upset.

  “Actually, the email was an e-vite to their wedding.”

  His jaw dropped, and she could have kissed him for that alone. That he would get it, right away, no explanation necessary, meant more to Georgia than she could have said.

  “She sent you an e-vite?” He snorted a laugh, then noted her scowl and sobered up fast. “Bloody rude.”

  “You think?” Shaking her head, Georgia started pacing back and forth on the gravel drive, hearing the grinding noise of the pebbles beneath her boots. “First, that she’s tacky enough to use e-vites as wedding invitations!” She shot him a look and threw both hands in the air. “Who does that?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, because no one does that!” Back to pacing, the crunch, crunch of the gravel sounding out in a rapid rhythm. “And really? You send one of your stupid, tacky e-vites to the woman your fiancé cheated on? The one he left for you?”

  “The pronouns are starting to get confusing, in case you were wondering,” Sean told her.

  She ignored that. “And Mike. What the hell was he thinking?” Georgia demanded. “He thinks it’s okay to invite me to his wedding? What’re we now? Old friends? I’m supposed to be civilized?”

  “What fun is civilized?” Sean asked.

  “Exactly!” She stabbed a finger at him. “Not that I care who the creep marries and if you ask me, the two of them deserve each other, but why does either one of them think I want to be there to watch the beginning of a marriage that is absolutely doomed from the start?”

  “Couldn’t say,” Sean said.

  “No one could, because it doesn’t make sense,” Georgia continued, letting the words rush from her on a torrent of indignation. Then something occurred to her. “They probably don’t expect me to actually go to the wedding.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She stopped dead, faced Sean and said, “Misty just wants me to know that she finally got Mike to marry her. Thinks it’ll hurt me somehow.”

  “And of course she’s wrong about that,” Sean mused.

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “Do I look hurt to you?”

  “Not a bit,” he said quickly. “You look furious and well you should be.”

  “Damn right.” She set both hands on her hips and tapped the toe of one boot against the gravel, only absently noting the rapid tappity, tappity, tap sound. “But you know what? I’m going to that wedding. I’m going to be the chill kiss of death for those two at the happy festivities.”

  Sean laughed. “I do admire a woman with fire in her eyes.”

  “Then stick around,” she snapped. “I’m going to show them just how little they mean to me.”

  “Good on you,” Sean said.

  “And the kicker is, I’m going to be arriving at their wedding in Brookhollow, Ohio, with my gorgeous, fabulously wealthy Irish fiancé.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Are you now?”

  “That’s the deal,” Georgia said calmly, now that the last of her outrage had been allowed to spill free. “I’ll help you keep your mom happy until she’s well if you go to this wedding with me and convince everyone there that you’re nuts about me.”

  “That’s a deal,” he said quickly and walked toward her.

  She skipped back a step and held up one hand to keep him at bay. “And you’ll help me get my license and sell me that cottage, too, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay, then.” She huffed out a breath as if she’d been running a marathon.

  “We’ve a deal, Georgia Page, and I think we’ll both come out of this for the better.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said and held out her right hand to take his in a handshake.

  He smirked and shook his head. “That’s no way to seal a deal between lovers.”

  Then he swooped in, grabbed her tightly and swung her into a dip that had her head spinning even before he kissed her blind.

  * * *

  The next few days flew past.

  Georgia could even forget, occasionally, that what was between she and Sean wasn’t actually real. He played his part so well. The doting fiancé. The man in love. Seriously, if she hadn’t known it was an act, she would have tumbled headfirst into love with him.

  And wouldn’t that be awkward?

  True to his word, Sean had pushed through the paperwork for her business license, and in just a week or two she would have it in hand. He sold her one of the cottages he owned and made her such a good deal on it she almost felt guilty, then she reminded herself that it was all part of the agreement they had struck. And with that reminder came the annoying tug of memory about her ex and the wedding Sean would be attending with her.

  Georgia squared her shoulders and steeled her spine. She’d made her decision and wouldn’t back away now. Besi
des, her new life was coming together. She had her lover. A shop. A new home.

  And all of it built on a tower of lies, her mind whispered.

  “The question is,” she asked herself aloud, “what part of it will survive when the tower collapses?” Frowning at the pessimistic thoughts that she was determined to avoid, she added, “Not helping.”

  She had chosen her road and wouldn’t change directions now. Whatever happened, she and Sean would deal with it. They were two adults after all. They could have sex. Have…whatever it was they had, without destroying each other. And then, there was the fact that even if she had been willing to consider ending their deal, she was in too deep to find a way out anyway. So instead, she would suck it up, follow the plan Sean had laid out and hope for the best.

  Meanwhile, she had a shop to get ready and a new cottage to decorate and furnish.

  She stepped back to take a look at her handiwork and smiled at the wash of palest yellow paint on one of the walls of her new office. It was cheerful and just bright enough to ease back the gray days that seemed to be a perpetual part of the Irish life. The smell of paint was strong, so she had propped open the front door. That cold wind she was so accustomed to now whipped through the opening and tugged at her hair as she worked.

  All morning, people in the village had been stopping in, to offer help—which Georgia didn’t need, since she wanted to do this part herself—or to offer congratulations on her upcoming marriage. So she hardly jumped when a voice spoke up from the doorway.

  “It’s lovely.”

  Georgia turned to smile at Ailish as Sean’s mother walked into the shop just a step or two ahead of her son.

  “Thanks.” Georgia smiled at both of them. “I didn’t know you were stopping by. Ailish, it’s so good to see you out of the hospital.”

  “It’s even better from my perspective,” she answered quickly, a soft smile curving her mouth. “I can’t tell you how badly I wanted to be home again. Of course, I was planning on going back to my own home in Dublin, but my son insists I stay at the family manor until I’m recovered—which I am even now, thanks very much.”

  “You’re not recovered yet and you’ll take it easy as the doctor advised,” Sean told her.

  “Take it easy,” Ailish sniffed. “How’m I to do that with you and everyone else hovering?”

  Georgia grinned at the expression of helpless frustration on Sean’s face. She understood how he was feeling, but she really identified with Ailish. Georgia didn’t appreciate hovering, either. “How’re you feeling?”

  The smaller woman hurried across the tarp-draped floor and took Georgia in a hard, brief hug. “I’m wonderful is what I am,” she said. “Sean’s told me your news and I couldn’t be happier.”

  Guilt flew like an arrow and stabbed straight into Georgia’s heart. She looked into Ailish’s sharp green eyes and felt terrible for her part in this lie. But at the same time, she could see that Sean’s mother’s face was pale and there were shadows beneath those lovely eyes of hers. So she wasn’t as well as she claimed and maybe, Georgia thought wildly, that was enough of a reason to carry on with the lie.

  “Isn’t it lovely that you and your sister both will be here, married and building families?” Ailish sighed at the romance of it. “I couldn’t ask for a more perfect daughter-in-law.”

  “Thank you, Ailish,” Georgia said and simply embraced the guilt, accepting that it would now be a part of her life. At least for a while.

  “Now,” Ailish said, grabbing Georgia’s left hand. “Let me see the ring…”

  There was no ring.

  Georgia curled her fingers into her palm and threw a fast look at Sean who mimed slapping his hand to his forehead.

  “We’ve not picked one out yet,” he said quickly. “It has to be just right, doesn’t it?”

  “Hmm…” Ailish patted Georgia’s hand even as she slid a curious look at her son. “Well, I’ll look forward to seeing it.”

  “So,” Georgia said into the quiet, “you’re not heading home to Dublin?”

  “Not for a bit yet,” she said, “though I do long for my own things about me.”

  “The manor was your home until four years ago, mother,” Sean reminded her. “There’s plenty of your things there, as well. And someone to look after you.”

  “I don’t need a keeper,” Ailish told him. “Though there were plenty of times I was convinced you did. Until you had the sense to become engaged to Georgia.”

  “Thanks very much,” Sean muttered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go sit in the car again until you’re ready to leave, Sean. Georgia,” she added, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “I couldn’t be happier for the both of you. It’ll be a lovely wedding, and you know I think this one should be held in Dunley, as Ronan and Laura were married in California.”

  “Um, sure,” Georgia said, as the pile of lies she was standing on grew higher and higher. “Only fair.”

  “Exactly.” Ailish took a breath and let it slide from her lungs as she smiled. “Have you thought about when the wedding will be?”

  “We really haven’t gotten that far yet,” Sean told her. “What with Georgia opening a new business and moving here and all, we’ve been too busy to set a date.”

  “Sometime soon then,” Ailish went on in a rush. “Perhaps a Christmas wedding? Wouldn’t that be lovely? Sean will send a plane for your parents of course, and perhaps they’d like to come out early, so we could all work on the wedding preparations together.”

  “I’ll, um, ask them.”

  “Wonderful.” Ailish smiled even wider, then turned for a look at her son. “I’ll speak to Father Leary tomorrow and see about having the banns read at Mass.”

  “All right then,” Sean said stiffly, “I’ll leave it in your hands.”

  “Good. That’s settled. Now,” Ailish added, “you two don’t mind me. I’ll be in the car, Sean, whenever you’re ready.”

  They watched her through the window to make sure she was all right, and once she was safely in the car again, Georgia grabbed his arm. “The priest? She’s going to have the banns read in church?”

  This was suddenly way more complicated. For three weeks running, the priest would read the names of the couples wanting to be married, giving anyone with a legal or civil objection a chance to speak up. But that just meant the news would fly around Dunley even faster than they’d expected.

  He pushed one hand through his hair. “Aye, well, that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it?”

  “Can’t you ask her to wait?”

  “And use what for a reason?” He shook his head. “No, the banns will be read but it changes nothing. We’ll still call it off when you break up with me. It’ll all be fine, Georgia. You’ll see.” He grabbed her left hand and ran his thumb over her ring finger. “I’m sorry though, that I forgot about a ring.”

  “It isn’t important.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “It is, and it’ll be taken care of today. I’ll see to it.”

  “Sean,” she whispered, moving in close, then sliding a quick look at Ailish to make absolutely certain the woman couldn’t overhear them, “are you really sure we’re doing the right thing?”

  “I am,” he insisted, dipping his head to hers. “She’s tired, Georgia. I’ve never seen my mother so pale, and I’ve no wish to give her a setback right now. Let’s see her up and moving around and back to herself before we end this. We have a deal, right?”

  She sighed miserably. “We do.”

  “Good then.” He kissed her hard and fast. “I’ll just take mother to the manor house, then I’ll come back and help you paint.”

  Surrendering, she smiled and asked, “Are you a good painter?”

  “I’m a man of many talents,” he reminded her.

  And as he walked out of the shop, Georgia thought, he really hadn’t needed to remind her of that at all.

  Six

  “I’ve a
n itch between my shoulder blades,” Sean confessed the following day, as he followed Ronan into the front parlor of his cousin’s house.

  He felt as if he were surrounded by women lately. Ordinarily, not a bad thing at all. But just now, between Georgia and his mother and his housekeeper and even Laura, who was giving him a glare every time they met up, he was ready for some strictly male company. And his cousin was the one to understand how he was feeling. Or so he thought.

  “Not surprising.” Ronan walked to the corner, where an elegant table stood in for a bar, and headed for the small refrigerator that held the beer he and Sean both needed. “It’s probably much what a rabbit feels when the hunter’s got his gun trained on it.”

  Sean winced and glared at his cousin’s back. “Thanks for that. I’ve come to you looking for solidarity and you turn on me like a snake. Are you going to be no comfort to me in this?”

  “I won’t.” Ronan bent to the fridge, opened it and pulled out two beers. As he closed the door again, he spotted something small and white beside it on the floor and picked it up. “A shirt button?”

  “What?”

  “A shirt button,” Ronan repeated, standing up and glancing down at his own shirt front as if expecting to see that one of the buttons had leaped free of the fabric. “Where did that come from?”

  Sean knew exactly where. It was one of his, after all, torn from his shirt the first night he and Georgia had made love, right here in this room, before a roaring fire. At the thought of that, he went hard as stone and covered his discomfort by snapping, “How’m I to know why your shirt button is on the bloody floor? Did you not hear me, Ronan? I said I’m in trouble.”

  Frowning still at the button, Ronan tossed it onto the table, then crossed the room and handed one of the beers to Sean. “’Tis no more than you deserve,” he said, tearing off the bottle cap and taking a long drink. “I warned you, didn’t I, at my own bleeding wedding, to keep your hands off our Georgia?”

  Sean uncapped his beer as well and took a long, thirsty drink. Ronan had indeed warned him off, but even now, when things had gotten so completely confused, he couldn’t bring himself to regret ignoring that warning.

 

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