His laughter rumbled in his chest, and she felt him smile against her skin. “I’m not wearing a suit now.”
“True. So perhaps we can thank the national menswear of Scotland.”
“Never underestimate the power of tartan.” His mouth found hers once more, conveying a level of need that mirrored her own, obliterating every last sensible thought. When he let her go, she almost moaned in frustration.
“We need to go back now, I think. While I can still act like a gentleman.”
She wasn’t quite sure she wanted him to be a gentleman, and that thought alone was enough to make her reach for the door handle. He waited until she gathered herself into the car, then shut the door behind her. She spent the time it took for him to reach the driver’s side to give herself a stern mental lecture. The ring on her finger changed nothing.
Except it changed everything. A thrill of excitement shot through her, mixing with terror. Could she do this? Could she finally be the person he needed? The person he deserved?
Then he leaned over to kiss her, sweetly and carefully, and she shoved down the fear. No. She wouldn’t let their past come between them. She wouldn’t let her own failures ruin what should be the best night of her life.
“Ready? I imagine it’s late enough, we could avoid most of the questions.”
“Until morning at least.” She held her hand up to admire the sparkle of the impossibly large diamond, once more touched by the thought he’d put into it. It must have taken weeks. “Wait, how long ago did you have this made?”
“Over a month ago.”
More than a month. Which meant just after she’d told him she loved him. Her heart clenched. So much faith in her, so much willingness to accept her back. It struck her with the deep conviction that she didn’t deserve him.
And the deep determination to try.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ian woke early, showered and changed, and then paced the perimeter of his room while waiting for the clock to show something approximating a reasonable hour. He could only guess what his family would say when they glimpsed the ring on Grace’s finger. Muriel and Serena would be pleased. Mum, on the other hand …
Ian had made it clear that he intended to marry Grace, and Mum had made it equally clear she wouldn’t support that decision. Whether she came around or not was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to let anything else steal more of his time with Grace than he had lost already.
When the clock finally clicked over to 7:00 a.m., he gave up and knocked on Grace’s door. It swung open immediately.
“Good morning,” she said, bracing her shoulder against the doorframe. She was already dressed, her hair tucked under her signature cap, though she actually wore a touch of makeup today.
“Sleep well?” he asked, moving in for a morning kiss.
“Not at all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and combed her fingers through the short hair at his nape, sending shivers down his spine. This woman was most definitely going to be the death of him. “It must have been the weight of this rock on my hand.”
His heart lifted at her teasing tone. Part of him had worried that in the light of morning, she would regret accepting his proposal. Had she not been a captive here without a car or public transport, he might have questioned whether she’d be waiting for him at all.
“If we go down now, we might have some time to ourselves before the others wake.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin and wishing he didn’t have to share her so quickly. He wanted to keep the news of their engagement to himself for a little longer.
She pulled back with a smile. “I’m hungry. Let’s go see what there is below.”
Coffee, tea, and pastries awaited them, along with most of his family. Serena and Muriel already sat at one of the larger tables by the window, Em and Max positioned between them.
“Morning,” Muriel greeted them brightly. She looked as cheery and healthy as always. Maybe they had been making too big of an issue over a little fatigue. “You two are up early.”
Ian pulled out a chair for Grace at the table for two beside the others, just close enough to talk. “It’s so bright here compared to London. I barely slept. I forget how it is up north.”
“Mmm.” Serena hid her smile in her teacup.
“What?”
“You didn’t think we’d miss the ring, did you?” Serena shot a significant look at Grace’s hand on top of the table.
Grace quickly whisked her hand into her lap. “Don’t make a big fuss over it, please. We don’t want to draw attention away from the newlyweds. And your mum—”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Muriel said, her voice a touch stiff. “Marjorie left last night, and the happy couple started out at dawn. They have a flight out of Inverness this morning.”
“Besides, you deserve to celebrate your news.” Serena rose from her chair and pressed Grace into an awkward hug. “Congratulations. I’m so pleased for you two.”
Grace’s expression turned to surprise, and Ian suspected the fleeting glimmer in her eyes were tears. At that moment, he’d never loved his sister more. He put his arms around Serena and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, Sis.”
Serena squeezed him back. “Be good to her, Ian. I want to see both of you happy.”
Muriel replaced Serena and patted his cheek. “About time you two figured it out. Be happy and well. And don’t tarry on your way to the altar.”
He choked down his laugh, even as gratitude toward the women in his family filled him. No warnings, just sincere congratulations. And by Grace’s expression, she was equally touched.
Other guests began to file into the room: family and friends, some of whom Ian didn’t know particularly well. The ones who noticed the ring on Grace’s hand offered hearty congratulations, though there were as many surprised looks as smiles. After an hour of lingering over pastries and rapidly cooling tea, Ian couldn’t take it any longer.
“Shall we go pack? We’ll be driving through the night if we don’t leave soon.”
“Good idea.” Grace stood and tossed her napkin on the table before shooting a look to Muriel and Serena. “Shall we come say good-bye at the house?”
“Please do.” Something sympathetic surfaced in Serena’s expression, but she said no more.
When they reached Grace’s door, Ian asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I can’t blame anyone for being surprised you would marry someone like me.”
He placed his hands on her waist to keep her from turning away. “You mean, a talented, beautiful, sexy, intelligent, and witty woman? Frankly, the idea I wouldn’t want you is an insult to my intelligence.”
“Good one.” She lifted her face for a kiss, which he was more than happy to supply. “Let me pack. I’ll knock when I’m finished.”
Ian had already hung his clothing from the day before in a garment bag, so now he folded his pajama bottoms and shaving kit into the suitcase and then sat on the edge of the bed to wait. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled out his mobile and texted Jamie.
Asked Grace to marry me. (She said yes.)
Anxiety churned in his stomach while he waited for the return text. And then came a handful of messages, one after another.
Congratulations! About time! We love Grace.
Well, not all of us. Was Mother furious?
Andrea says you need to text a picture of the ring.
Ian laughed softly at the last one. Mum knows I was going to ask and refuses to attend the wedding. Thanks for the support. Tell Andrea I’ll work on the pic.
When Grace knocked a few minutes later, he showed her the message thread, and she laughed too. “I adore your family. Even if Jamie and Andrea are so in love it hurts to be around them.”
“Very true. I guess we need to start working on obnoxious levels of happiness.”
“I’m getting there. Now let me have your mobile.”
He handed over the phone, and she snapped
a picture of her left hand, then sent it back to Jamie. A few seconds went by before the reply came in. Well done, man. Andrea says it’s perfect.
“It is,” she murmured. “Now let’s go before I feel the need to say it’s perfect because you had it designed for me or because you gave it to me or some such nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
She stretched up and kissed him quickly. “Anything you gave me would be perfect. Just not this perfect.”
His laughter rang out in the hall. He picked up his bag and one of hers and followed her down to the lobby below.
“Are you sorry to be leaving Scotland?” she asked.
“No. It was good to be back, but my life is in London. Our life together is in London.”
A strange expression crossed her face. Then she smiled. “Let’s get to it, then.”
By silent agreement, they took a leisurely route home, even knowing it would get them back to the city in the wee hours of Monday morning. They stopped for lunch in Fort William, walking the cobblestone streets hand in hand, chatting about everything and nothing, kissing on a random street corner and getting asked if they were newlyweds.
“Newly engaged,” Ian replied. Grace knew she should have been embarrassed, but she laughed. Nothing could dampen her happiness at the moment, especially after all the teasing she’d done about his aversion to public displays of affection.
When they finally arrived in London and Ian parked in front of her building, dawn had broken over the buildings, the light giving a bright crown to tops of dusky gray-and-white stone. In her sleepless, bleary-eyed state, that somehow seemed significant.
“Sure you can climb the stairs?” he asked when he carried her bags to the top of the interior landing. “You look asleep on your feet.”
“My feet aren’t touching the ground, yada yada, insert overblown romantic sentiment here.” Grace grinned up at him. “I blame you for my newfound sappiness.”
“For that I will gladly take the blame. Call me when you wake up?”
“You might need to wake me for supper.”
He kissed her gently, and too briefly for her liking, then waited as she put her key into the lock. She whispered good-bye, then carefully tiptoed her way into the flat with her bags.
She needn’t have worried. The lights were already on, and the kettle bubbled in the kitchen. She dropped her luggage with a thud. “Ash? I’m back!”
Asha emerged from the bathroom, toweling her dark hair dry. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t get in until later!”
“We ended up driving. How was your weekend?”
“Oh no, don’t try to divert me. How was your weekend?”
Grace couldn’t help the grin that sprang to her face. “Good. The wedding was gorgeous, as you’d expect. Weather was surprisingly good for Scotland, which you wouldn’t expect.”
“And?”
“And this happened.” Grace held up her left hand.
Asha’s expression turned from surprise to shock to joy. She let out a squeal and launched herself at Grace. “Oh my, congratulations, Grace! That’s amazing! Let me see it again.” She grabbed Grace’s hand and twisted it for a better view of each side of the ring. “Well. That is impressive. You’re wearing the Crown Jewels on your ring finger.”
Grace blushed. “It’s rather showy, isn’t it?”
“Oh, it’s stunning. What a gorgeous setting. I never would have imagined you wearing a diamond that big, but somehow it feels like you. He had it made, didn’t he?”
“From my first engagement ring,” Grace said.
“That may be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” Asha dragged her over to the sofa and pulled her down beside her, tucking one leg up beneath her like a little girl. “So how did he do it? When? Did he get down on one knee?”
“He did. He took me for a drive, but it was already getting rather dark. Proposed overlooking the Sound. And then I laughed at him.”
“You did what?” Asha screeched. “Why do you do these things to the man?”
“I didn’t mean to! He took me by surprise. He was telling me how much I meant to him, and then he got down on one knee, and I kind of panicked. I didn’t take him for a down-on-one-knee sort of man.”
“Oh, he is. Even I could tell you that. Grace, he’s waited for you for ten years. He had your old engagement ring remade. You don’t think he’s going to make a statement of some sort?”
“Well, after I apologized for laughing at him, I said yes, and the rest is history.”
Asha sighed happily. “Best story ever, with the exception of the fact it didn’t happen to me. So, have you talked about a date?”
“Not really.”
“Didn’t do a lot of talking after that, hmm?”
Grace laughed, but the heat returned to her cheeks. “Not really. I’m pretty sure he wants to get married as soon as we can. There are details to work out.”
“Like what?”
“Like my job in London, wedding guests …”
Asha fell silent. “Do you think your parents would come?”
“I doubt it. The last time I called, they didn’t pick up the phone and didn’t return the message. It was never Mum, you know, but she’ll go along with what Dad wants. She has no choice, really.”
“I don’t understand your dad. It wasn’t enough to lose one child, so he had to drive the other away.” Asha grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“No, it’s okay. That’s exactly what he did. He’s never really gotten over the fact I ignored his ultimatum and followed in Aidan’s footsteps. Stubborn Irish pride.”
Asha grabbed Grace’s hand and squeezed. “None of that now. Don’t let them spoil your happiness.”
Asha was right, but the doubt and the heaviness had crept in, stealing a little of her joy. She knew exactly what her father would say, if he bothered to talk to her. She had no family pride or loyalty, or she wouldn’t have run off to America against his wishes. He’d say her current problems were the results of her rebelliousness. And he certainly wouldn’t believe that she was settling down now.
He was wrong. Her father might never forgive her, but God was giving her a second chance, of which she had barely dared to dream. She wouldn’t start that second chance with negativity. She held tight to Asha’s hand. “Of course this means you have to be my maid of honor.”
“Well, of course I will. Who else would it be? I’m already picking out shoes in my head.” Asha laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. The words she whispered into her ear were serious, though. “I love you, Grace. I’m so proud of you. You deserve your happiness. Now go take it.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Ash.” She hugged her one more time. “So now he and I need to set a date. Autumn or winter, I’d think. I get the impression neither of us are up for anything elaborate.”
Asha’s expression shifted. “I didn’t want to bring this up now, but I don’t want you to be disappointed later. I certainly don’t want you to change your plans for me.”
“What is it, Ash?” Grace’s stomach was getting more nervous by the second.
“I just got my leave approved. I’m going back to India in six weeks.”
“What? That’s great! So you’ll be able to go for the opening of the Pune TB clinic at the end of September, yeah?” Asha had been invited by CAF months ago, but she’d almost given up on getting the requisite time away from work.
“It is great, but I won’t be back until late January. Which means if you have an autumn wedding, I won’t be there.”
“I see.” Grace thought through the possibilities. There wasn’t any need to rush things. She’d only thought autumn because the weather was still nice …
Asha pushed herself off the sofa and wagged a finger. “Don’t overthink this, Grace. And don’t let me affect your decisions. You love him; he loves you. If you’re sure you want to marry him, just do it. Don’t give yourself the time to talk yourself out of what you
really want.”
Asha went to finish getting ready for work, leaving Grace alone with her swirling thoughts. Did Asha have that little faith in her that she thought she would run from the altar a second time? She’d made her decision. She loved Ian. She’d reconciled herself to leaving her other life behind, finding a new passion here in London. There was nothing that would make her throw that away.
Was there?
Asha came back from the bedroom, fastening tiny gold earrings into her earlobes. “I really hate the fact I have to work this morning. We should be shopping for wedding dresses or having a celebratory high tea.”
“We can do that on your next day off. Besides, I need to head over to the gallery this afternoon to check on Melvin’s progress.” And keep her mind off all the ways she might manage to muck this up.
But Melvin wouldn’t be in the gallery for hours, and the enormous yawn that ripped from her convinced her she’d be asleep the minute she sat down on the train. Instead Grace waited until Asha left, then took a long, hot bath—longer than necessary considering the time she spent admiring the sparkle of the diamonds in the bathroom’s halogen lights. Then she put on her pajamas and curled up beneath a blanket on the sofa, too tired to bother pulling out the bed.
She woke to a shrill ring minutes or hours later and fumbled for her mobile phone while she wiped a trail of drool from her cheek. Had she actually slept through dinner? She answered and mumbled a sleepy “Hello?” into the handset.
It wasn’t Ian’s voice that came through. “Grace? It’s Henry Symon.”
Adrenaline flooded her system, instantly sweeping away the last cobwebs of sleep. “Hello, Henry. How are you?” It was an inane thing to say, but her synapses weren’t firing as quickly as her pulse.
“Well, thanks. I wanted to let you know that our monthly board meeting has been moved to this Friday. Would you be available to speak at ten o’clock?”
“Of course. Do I need to prepare a presentation?” Her words were finally coming out semicoherently.
“I would. This is your chance to show them your vision and your passion. I’m confident you’re the right person for the job. Now we just need to show them why.”
London Tides: A Novel (The MacDonald Family Trilogy Book 2) Page 21