Their Engagement is Announced

by Carole Mortimer

  In other words, Izzy, mind your own damned business! And she was quite happy to do that. Except for that promise she had made to Charlotte…

  ‘Your mother seems changed, Griffin.’ Dora tried another approach. ‘Since Charles’s death, I mean.’

  He shrugged. ‘A salutary lesson for us all,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Never have favourites,’ he explained scornfully. ‘Because with Charlotte’s marriage, and her subsequent move to the States, all my mother will have left is disappointing me!’

  With his blond good-looks, and his successful career, Griffin was a son for any mother to be proud of. Except for Margaret, Dora acknowledged sadly.

  Not that, being an only child, as Dora was, was necessarily an advantage. Her mother had always loved her, and been proud of her, but her father had wanted a son, and had never made any secret of the fact that he was disappointed with the one child the marriage had produced.

  That disappointment had carried on throughout Dora’s childhood and into her adult life, although there was no doubting her father had been suitably pleased when she’d become engaged to Charles, as the younger man had obviously been destined for political greatness.

  But then Charles had died. And with his death Dora had again lost status in her father’s eyes.

  She had decided long ago that if she ever married and had children of her own she would love them for what they were, not for what they could have, or should have been.

  ‘What are you thinking about now, Izzy?’

  Dora looked up at Griffin dazedly for several seconds, having briefly forgotten where she was and who she was with. Not the thing to do when that person was Griffin!

  ‘I was just thinking…’ she moistened dry lips ‘…that parents have a lot to answer for!’

  He laughed softly. ‘I’m told it’s the hardest job in the world—and it comes with little or no training!’

  That was true. Who was to say that she would have made a good mother, either? She knew what not to do, but that didn’t mean she knew how to do the right things. ‘True,’ she acknowledged ruefully. ‘I hadn’t quite thought of it that way before.’

  ‘Put it down to lateral thinking,’ Griffin dismissed. ‘Aha, I believe the time has finally come for us all to sit down and eat.’ He nodded across the room to where people were starting to take their places at the dining tables. ‘And I meant what I said earlier, Izzy; you are sitting next to me!’ He took a light grasp of her arm as he guided her to their table.

  Dora had given up all idea of arguing with him. As long as she wasn’t sitting next to his mother, she no longer cared where she sat.

  Thankfully, Margaret was sitting on the other side of the main round table, next to her new son-in-law; Griffin was next to Charlotte, with Dora on Griffin’s other side and one of Griffin’s uncles—she couldn’t remember which one—was sitting to her left.

  So all she had to do now was eat her meal, make innocuous conversation occasionally with the uncle—and then perhaps Griffin would allow her to quietly leave. She was sure that as far as Margaret was concerned she had already long overstayed her welcome!

  To Dora’s surprise, it was quite a pleasant meal. The uncle—whose name was James—was the brother of Griffin’s father, and he had a string of jokes with which he kept her entertained, the two of them actually having quite a good time together.

  ‘He’s sixty, and a grandfather,’ Griffin leant over to whisper in her ear.

  Dora gave him a reproving frown. Would he have preferred it if she had sat here and not spoken to anyone, and consequently had a miserable time?

  ‘The grateful sort,’ she came back sharply.

  Now it was Griffin’s turn to give a shout of laughter, his first during the wedding meal. ‘At the risk of repeating myself—’ he gave a rueful shake of his head ‘—I really do question whether or not Charles knew what he was getting when he became engaged to you! The little mouse not only has a damn great roar—she has claws too!’

  Dora wasn’t sure that accurately described her at all, but if Griffin thought so, then let him continue to do so. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she said pointedly, before turning her attention back to his uncle and listening to yet another of his jokes—which were funny. But Dora could help thinking that she perhaps owed most of her frivolous mood to the champagne she was drinking rather than the company!

  Even the speeches didn’t seem as long and boring as they usually did at such occasions. Griffin made everyone laugh with tales of his sister during their childhood—everyone except Margaret, Dora noted; she continued to view everything and everyone through those cool blue eyes.

  Margaret looked, Dora decided, like a woman shrewdly assessing what changes she could make with Griffin and get away with. Once again Dora felt that surge of apprehension in the pit of her stomach.

  Today’s pleasantness was all a sham; both Griffin and his mother were just biding their time. What was really going on under the surface wouldn’t become apparent until Charlotte was safely away on her honeymoon. And then, Dora had no doubts, the fireworks between mother and son would really begin.

  ‘How did I do?’

  She blinked across at Griffin, having totally missed the latter part of his speech, although from the applause and laughter that still ensued it had obviously been a great success.

  ‘Very well,’ she answered him brightly. ‘Very funny,’ she added confidently.

  ‘Little liar,’ he murmured good-humouredly, his smile meant for the other guests as they still looked at him. ‘Remind me to ask you later what you were thinking about instead of listening to me!’

  She would remind him of nothing of the sort! Hopefully, before ‘later’ arrived she would have managed to escape!

  Although that didn’t look like happening any time soon. The band was beginning to play as they all left the dining tables, and everyone looked on indulgently as Charlotte and Stuart took to the floor, the newly married couple gazing happily into each other’s eyes.

  As Dora watched them she could see exactly why Griffin had made the agreement with his mother—it was whether or not he would be able to live up to it that was the real problem!

  ‘You’ve faded off again,’ Griffin muttered impatiently at her side. ‘Come on, let’s dance—maybe that will hold your attention. I certainly don’t seem able to!’ he added disgustedly.

  Oh, but he could. All too easily. And it was thoughts of him that were causing her to daydream.

  But Dora didn’t have time to dwell on that now. She’d been taken into Griffin’s arms, while several other couples joined in the dancing, too, now that the happy couple had had their moment.

  Dora had never danced with Griffin before, and found the experience nerve-racking, to say the least. He was too close, all of him: his thighs moving against hers, his chest against her breasts, his breath stirring the fiery tendrils of her hair…

  ‘Don’t fidget,’ he murmured as she tried to put some distance between the two of them.

  She wasn’t fidgeting—she was trying to breathe!

  Breathing was supposed to be an involuntary response, but for some reason her breath seemed to have got caught in her chest and wouldn’t be moved.

  Was it possible to die just from dancing too close to someone? At this moment, she quite believed it was!

  Not Griffin! She couldn’t be falling in love with Griffin! Oh, for a brief few hours two years ago she had allowed herself to be charmed by him, had felt decidedly reckless in doing so, but even then she had recognised that Griffin was a man who would never settle down with one woman—and especially not with one called Dora, who worked in a bookshop and lived at home with her father!

  And so she’d played out their little charade, indulged in a light flirtation herself. Until she’d realised what dangerous ground she was stepping on. It was the only few hours of madness she’d ever known in her well-ordered existence. With a complete stranger. A man she’d believed she would never see again. But they had met again, and that time
she had been the fiancée of his older brother.

  To give Griffin his due, he’d played his part as Charles’s younger brother very well. At least, she’d thought he had—until Charlotte’s earlier remark… Dora couldn’t say she’d noticed Griffin looking as if someone had just punched him when Charles had introduced the two of them, but Charlotte claimed that he had. And Dora had no reason to disbelieve her.

  What had her own feelings been on that night over a year ago?

  Horror. Fear. A dread that Griffin might claim he’d already met her. And disclose the circumstances…

  But what else had she felt? How had she really felt at meeting Griffin again? The man who’d kissed her with such passion?

  No!

  A shutter came firmly down over anything else she might or might not have felt that evening. It served no purpose, only confused her—and at a time when she was trying, after years of living her life around her father’s needs and wants, to make a life for herself. A life that certainly didn’t include loving the disruptive Griffin Sinclair!

  ‘What is it?’ He frowned down at her as they still danced together. ‘Your back stiffened and you suddenly grew two inches in height,’ he explained ruefully at her questioning look.

  Because she had come to a decision in those moments: neither Margaret Sinclair or Griffin were a part of her life. And Margaret’s frostiness towards her, and Griffin himself, with his teasing and cajoling, would be of no consequence to Dora once today was over. The promise she had made Charlotte earlier was a complete waste of time; she never saw Griffin anyway, and he was quite capable of looking after himself!

  ‘I remembered my father telling me not to slouch,’ she dismissed with a shrug, the dance having come to an end—and her moments of madness. ‘I think—’

  ‘Ah, Griffin, here you are,’ Margaret greeted him brightly as the couple left the dance floor.

  Dora turned to look at the other woman, her eyes widening as she saw Margaret wasn’t alone. Standing beside her was a tall, beautiful blonde woman, and Dora could feel the tension in Griffin’s hand, where he had a light grasp of her elbow. Although he looked relaxed enough when she turned to glance at him…

  ‘Griffin,’ the blonde greeted him, with husky pleasure.

  Was this one of the ‘eligible women’ his mother had found for him…?

  ‘Griffin, you remember Amanda Adams?’ his mother reminded him warmly.

  ‘Of course.’ Griffin nodded abruptly, his smile strained as he looked at the beautiful woman.

  It was one of those women!

  And Margaret, socially correct Margaret, was pointedly ignoring Dora as she stood at Griffin’s side!

  Which was telling enough in itself. Dora looked at Amanda Adams. Yes, she was beautiful enough: probably about Dora’s own age, and yet possessed of a self-confidence that Dora could never hope to attain.

  ‘Jeffrey Adams’ daughter,’ Margaret added pointedly.

  Jeffrey Adams! The politician! A man predicted to be the next leader of his party, possibly the next Prime Minister!

  ‘I thought the two of you might like to dance together,’ Margaret told Griffin determinedly.

  Now it was Dora’s turn to stiffen. Margaret wasn’t only being socially incorrect now, she was being incredibly rude. Was Dora the only one to see that? Amanda Adams looked unconcerned. In fact she hadn’t so much as glanced at Dora, either, her attention all fixed on Griffin! And Griffin—damn him!—now seemed absolutely mesmerised in return.

  Well, if Griffin wanted to play into his mother’s hands that was up to him; Dora certainly wasn’t going to stand in his way! If a political career was what Margaret had in mind for Griffin, then the daughter of Jeffrey Adams would certainly be a ‘suitable’ wife for him!

  ‘Please do,’ Dora told Griffin tautly. ‘I think I would like to sit down for a while anyway.’

  ‘Well…if you’re sure?’ He barely glanced at her, returning Amanda’s seductive smile.

  She was sure. More than sure! The man was an idiot; he didn’t deserve her help in evading his mother’s machinations if he was stupid enough to fall straight into her trap!

  ‘I’m sure,’ she snapped, walking off and leaving them to it.

  Although she couldn’t resist glancing over at the dancing couple a few minutes later. The two of them were laughing together, Griffin obviously captivated by the willowy Amanda. A sideways glance in Margaret’s direction showed the older woman watching them with a satisfied smile on her lips. Although her head went back challengingly as she saw Dora looking over at her.

  Damn her! The sooner Dora escaped, leaving Griffin to get on with his flirting and saving Margaret her continued cold looks in Dora’s direction, the better it would be for everyone! Surely Charlotte and Stuart would be leaving soon. One of the uncles had mentioned that the happy couple were booked on a late-night flight to Paris. And they would have to change and pick their luggage before then.

  Dora breathed a sigh of relief when it was announced, ten minutes later, that the bride and groom would shortly be leaving. She joined the other guests near the doorway as they went to see them off. With any luck she would be able to slip away unobserved herself—more successfully than she’d managed earlier!—once they’d gone!

  ‘Unobserved’ was not quite the way she would have described herself a few seconds later, when the bouquet of yellow tea-roses landed in her arms!

  Charlotte had followed the old tradition of throwing her bouquet, and when it had hurtled towards Dora she had instinctively reached out and caught it.

  To Dora’s consternation.

  And Charlotte’s obvious glee!

  The other woman grinned as she gave Dora a brief wave in parting before disappearing out through the door with her new husband.

  Dora gave a slightly sickly smile of embarrassment as she caught several smiles of approval directed at her from some of the other guests.

  ‘An omen, Izzy. Let’s hope, whoever he is, that you manage to hang on to this one!’

  She turned sharply, the bouquet still in her hands, and found herself facing Griffin, and wasn’t fooled for a moment by his innocent wide-eyed gaze. ‘Charlotte’s sense of humour is obviously as warped as yours!’ she snapped. ‘You’re more likely to marry in the near future than I am,’ she added scathingly, glancing across to where the beautiful blonde still watched him with avaricious eyes. ‘Here.’ Dora thrust the bouquet disgustedly towards Griffin. ‘Give them to your friend!’

  He shook his head, making no effort to take the roses from her. ‘It doesn’t work that way, Izzy. A secondhand bouquet doesn’t mean anything,’ he taunted. ‘No, Izzy, I’m afraid you’ll just have to face it—you are destined to be the next bride!’

  ‘Like hell I am,’ she muttered forcefully. ‘I was going to marry Charles—’

  ‘You would have made each other miserable,’ he put in dismissively.

  ‘You’re insulting,’ she gasped incredulously.

  ‘You didn’t love him.’ Griffin shrugged. ‘And I very much doubt Charles was capable of loving anyone more than he loved himself!’

  ‘Of course I loved him!’ she snapped impatiently, ignoring his remark about Charles; after all, she couldn’t speak for anyone but herself. And Charles had said he loved her…‘That’s the second time today you’ve said something like that.’ She put the bouquet down on the table next to her. ‘And, quite frankly, I find it rude. You have no right to—Why are you looking at me like that?’ She frowned up at him suspiciously as he looked at her with one brow raised in sceptical mockery, his arms folded across his chest.

  ‘Keep going, Izzy,’ he drawled derisively. ‘If you try hard enough, you might actually be able to work yourself up into a genuine state of agitation.’

  ‘You’re so insulting!’ she bit out fiercely; she was going to knock that mocking smile off his arrogant face in a minute!

  ‘You just said that,’ he said dryly. ‘Several times.’

  ‘Then I obviously mean it
.’ Her eyes flashed deeply grey. ‘I believe I’ve had quite enough of this wedding, Griffin. I’ve certainly had enough of you! And do not offer to take me home,’ she warned in a dangerously soft voice. ‘You’ve already caused me more than enough discomfort for one day!’

  ‘I have no intention of offering to drive you home,’ Griffin said with amusement. ‘No car, remember.’ He shrugged. ‘However, I could arrange a taxi for you if you really insist on leaving.’

  ‘Oh, I insist! And I can get my own taxi, thank you, Griffin,’ she told him impatiently. ‘Now, if you will excuse me…?’

  ‘Certainly.’ He stepped back out of her way. ‘Don’t forget to say goodbye to my mother—after all, she is your hostess,’ he called after her softly.

  Dora could hear him chuckling softly to himself as she flinched slightly after his last mocking remark, but she kept on walking towards Margaret, where she stood across the room talking to her sister. Griffin was quite right; she would have to take her leave of his mother. But he wasn’t right about her feelings for Charles; she had loved him. He had been everything any woman could possibly want in a future husband. But what would Griffin know of that?

  ‘Leaving us so soon, Dora?’ Margaret drawled pleasantly enough when Dora told her of her intention of leaving. ‘Excuse us, Stella; I’ll just walk outside with Dora,’ she told her sister, once again linking her arm with Dora’s in what looked like a friendly gesture.

  Looked like, because from Margaret’s earlier remarks Dora had no reason to believe the other woman felt in the least friendly towards her!

  Margaret’s friendly demeanour faded as soon as the two of them were outside in the hotel hallway. ‘I just wanted to warn you not to get any ideas where Griffin is concerned,’ she said, coming icily straight to the point. ‘In other words, Dora, do not take the bouquet incident seriously. Especially in Griffin’s direction,’ she added grimly. ‘I have plans of my own for Griffin—and they certainly do not include you!’

  Dora stared at the other woman, stunned by the attack, even though she had half been expecting it. It was the vitriol in the other woman’s words and face that so surprised her. No one had ever spoken to her like this before.