8

Over dinner, the discussion turned to where they were going to live.

Chloe still couldn’t believe how things were turning out. It had gone from fantasy to an idea to reality. This morning she’d gone to work an ordinary person and now she was engaged to marry the proverbial tall, dark, handsome stranger.

She twisted the fork in her hand. “I’ve always wanted to live by the beach. I can sell up and open a new school down there. That way you don’t have to change jobs. Honestly, I’ve thought about quitting here for some time. Start fresh somewhere far away. Bournemouth would be a fine place to live.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” The doorbell rang again and she sighed. She really didn’t want another fight with Caleb tonight. “Where did you want to live? In your mansion?”

Nigel shuddered. “Perish the thought. I thought we could get a small place of our own. Two bedrooms, something like this or a small house down on the sea front—close enough to walk a dog along the beach each night. I’d much prefer that than living in something the Heritage Organization would love to run given half the chance.”

Several thuds came from the front door. “Chloe. I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

She caught her breath. Cold swept over her and she wondered if she looked as pale as she felt. “That’s Dad. I’d better answer it.” She rose and headed to the door.

Both her parents stood there and neither looked happy. “Where is he, Chloe?”

She smiled faintly, hoping to offset some of their displeasure. “Hi. Where’s who?”

“Caleb said you met a man on the internet on Saturday and now you’re getting married. Your mother and I came straight over. Is he still here?”

“Please, don’t shout, Dad.” She closed the door. “I don’t want the whole block hearing.” She leaned against the wall. “And it’s not like I’m sixteen anymore or sneaking around behind your backs. I would never do that.”

“Where’s he hiding? Is he not man enough to ask my permission for your hand in marriage?”

“Dad, please. He’s right here; we’re just finishing up dinner.”

“Mr. Wilkes, Mrs. Wilkes. I’m Dr. Nigel Turner.” Nigel spoke from her side. She hadn’t even seen him approach. “I’m not hiding. I was going to give you a call later this evening. Chloe and I wanted to get everything sorted first.”

“Chloe, leave us.”

“What? No. I’m not leaving. Whatever you have to say to Nigel affects both of us.”

Her father frowned. “In that case you can sit here and not say a word. Your fiancé and I have several things to talk about.”

****

Nigel sat on the pink overstuffed couch half wishing the dining table were between him and Chloe’s parents. His hands rested on his lap, palms damp, stomach churching. Acid rose in his throat.

Chloe sat next to him, her hand inches away from his thigh. Did she want to hold his hand as much as he did hers?

Tentatively he reached out, his fingers touching hers. Instantly her hand gripped his. No matter his motives, it looked as if they were putting up a united front.

He glanced at Chloe’s father.

The man glowered at him. He looked like an older version of Caleb. The thick hair was still golden, but tinged with grey. Problem was, Nigel didn’t blame the man for being angry. He’d probably react the same way given the situation. And the bloke didn’t know the half of it.

Chloe’s mother sat the other side of the room, her hands wringing, and disappointment written all over her face.

“Do you know how it looks? Have you any idea how we feel right now?”

“No, sir, I don’t. We’d hoped you’d be pleased for us. I know I haven’t known your daughter long, but—”

Mr. Wilkes scowled, glancing over at his wife before glaring at Nigel again. “According to Caleb you’ve only known Chloe two weeks, having picked her up off some Internet dating site. And now you’re getting married in a month? We know nothing about you.”

“I work for the Home Office as a forensic pathologist and university lecturer,” Nigel said, praying hard. He needed the right words to defuse the situation. Lying would only make the situation so much worse. “I’ve met Chloe three times in the last fortnight and spent a fair bit of time getting to know her on those occasions. We’ve also emailed and texted each other constantly over the past few days. I admit, things are moving a little quicker than normal, but I’m not forcing her into this marriage. We’ve already been to Chloe’s lawyer and set up a pre-nup. She’ll be well looked after in the future.”

“Why do you need a pre-nup on a doctor’s salary?”

“I also recently inherited the Thornhill Abbey estate. Chloe won’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life.”

“Well, I still think you should wait a year or so. Save up for it.”

“The chapel in Gretna Green is already booked and paid for,” Chloe said, her warm hand squeezing his. “The wedding is Palm Sunday at one o’clock. We’re not eloping. We want you and Mum to come with us as witnesses—I want you to give me away. If the others don’t want to come, well, it’s their loss.” She looked at her father, her eyes glistening. “We’ve even booked a reception meal and rooms for up to eighteen guests to stay overnight.”

Mr. Wilkes’s face softened. “It’s still fast. I know your mother and I married after only three months, but…”

“And you’ve been married thirty-five years now. I’m just following your example. Nigel was going to phone you tonight and talk to you. We had no intentions of just up and marrying without letting you know.”

“Dr. Turner, I’d like to talk to my daughter in private.”

“I’d rather stay.” He had no intentions of letting Chloe face this alone. The desire to protect her swept over him, catching him unawares.

“Nigel, I’ll be fine. You’ve got work tomorrow and you won’t be home much before eleven by now anyway.”

He gazed into her soulful brown eyes. “Are you sure, hon?” The term of endearment sounded strange, yet it fell so easily from him.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Nigel reluctantly stood. “OK. Chloe, I’ll call you when I get home. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

Chloe got to her feet. “Will you be up this weekend?”

“Yes. I’ll meet you after your class on Saturday morning.” He followed her into the hall and slid into his thick overcoat. He kissed her cheek, and then aware of her father watching from the doorway, wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll call you when I get home. Good night.”

Chloe hugged him back. She was so soft against him, and her perfume made his head spin. “Night.”

Nigel trotted down the stairs and out into the freezing air. He turned up his collar and walked across the snowy pavement towards his car. Something hit the back of his head, sending him to his knees with a grunt. Stars floated across his vision. Another blow to his back left him face down on the floor. Then pain erupted all over his body as the kicking began.