Chloe and you can adopt Abby. If the court allows it. Personally, I think they’re going to breathe a sigh of relief that everything’s worked out so smoothly.’
This time she did take a sip of wine. He watched the nervous flutter of her hand as she replaced the glass carefully back on the table. At least she hadn’t said an outright no.
‘You want to be married until the girls are eighteen?’
He shook his head. ‘As long as they need us to be. It has to be as normal as we can make it. At some point in the future we’re going to have to tell them the complete truth, and I want them to be secure in having two parents who love them and are there for them.’
Again the questions flitted across her expressive face. Her hand went to her casually swept-up hair and fiddled with a strand hanging across her cheek. ‘What happens if you meet someone else? Or I do?’
‘It hasn’t happened to me in the last six years. I hardly think it’s likely to happen now. I don’t ever want to love anyone again. I can’t take the risk of anything hurting that much again.’ He had her attention now. It was in the way she leant forward and her hand stilled on her hair. ‘We have a common goal. It will be enough to build a good life for ourselves—and for the girls.’
‘And where will we live?’
Was that a yes? He’d shocked her, unquestionably, but she could obviously see the advantages of a marriage of convenience. ‘If we decide to go ahead with it, that’s all open for discussion. It’s handy for me to be based in London, and I’ve a big house there, so that’s an option, but it’s not a necessity. Are you fixed here?’
‘My family’s here. Friends.’
Memories, he realised, watching the way she bit on her bottom lip. ‘The details can be worked out later. In principle, what do you think? Will you marry me?’
Lucy didn’t know what to say. What to think, even. Could she do it? Marry a perfect stranger? To give Chloe security and get to know Abby? And then she gave a half smile. Perfect? Had she really thought that? He was perfect—almost. Tall, handsome—in a clever kind of way, rather than a chocolate box model kind of thing. Gorgeous hands, eyes you could trust, and a committed father as well. It was an impressive list. But he didn’t love her and she didn’t love him.
It was a big but. If she’d been young and impressionable he’d have been someone she might have dated—if it hadn’t been for Michael. There never had been anyone for her but Michael and never would be. People only had one great love in a lifetime and she’d already had hers. It had been fantastic—and now it was over.
All she had in her life were memories—and Chloe. Lucy looked out at a small family cruiser passing outside on the canal. A mum, a dad and two little girls. She bit her lip. She could do that for Chloe. For Abby. If there was no possibility of her falling in love again she could commit herself to this new family unit. The girls could have everything. She looked back at Dominic.
‘I’ll do it. Theoretically, if we can work it all out, I’ll do it. For the girls, I’ll marry you.’
She couldn’t believe she’d said the words that would commit her to a lifetime without love. It seemed a travesty of everything she’d shared with Michael. He wouldn’t have wanted her to spend the rest of her life alone in every way that mattered. Yet Michael couldn’t have known what would face her.
Dominic leant forward. ‘We can make this work, Lucy. I know we can.’
She could feel her eyes begin to fill up with tears and she blinked furiously. When she’d agreed to have dinner with Dominic to discuss the future she hadn’t dreamed the conversation would take this turn. It certainly wasn’t something that usually happened to a widowed mother of one who only wanted a peaceful life. ‘What do we do now?’
Watching Dominic, she noticed a change. The tension had left him and in its place was a sense of purpose. She had the strangest sensation of being in a bubble. Everything was muffled, it was slower, it was…inevitable.
‘Are you working at the moment? Apart from on a casual basis with your mother?’ She knew she’d shaken her head when she heard him say, ‘That simplifies things.’
Did it? Nothing seemed very simple to her. She could see every obstacle. She knew nothing about him. Not even what he did for a job, she recognised bleakly. Some kind of lecturer, perhaps? It hardly mattered.
‘We could start off in London and review it later. My house has room for some kind of a studio for you. I don’t know what you need for potting, but there’s an annexe on the ground floor that was intended for live-in help. It could be made into something quite useful. We could put in a wheel. A kiln? Is that what you need?’
Everything was moving too fast. He was answering questions she hadn’t even got around to thinking yet. Was he really asking whether she wanted her own studio? It was unbelievable. She couldn’t get her head round it at all. This just couldn’t be happening to her.
‘Mum mainly produces named mugs for the tourist market. I’d rather try and paint again.’ This was just surreal. ‘And I like to teach. I’ve been doing a bit at the local secondary school while their art teacher has been off on maternity leave. I could do more of that.’
‘There’s a desperate shortage of teachers in London, so I can’t see that as a problem.’ He filled up his fork and ate another mouthful. ‘What we ought to do now is get on with organising our wedding. There’s no point in hanging about now we’ve made the decision. I’m assuming we’ll go for a civil ceremony.’ He frowned. ‘I think the rules have changed since the last time I got married. I think there’s a month’s delay from visiting the register office to the wedding itself.’
‘Is there?’ Lucy heard herself ask.
‘Minimum. I suggest you move in with Abby and I as soon as possible and we’ll set everything in motion. If the wedding is, let’s say, eight weeks from now, it gives us some time to review it.’
‘Review it?’ she repeated weakly.
‘Once we’re married there can be no turning back. We’ll be in it for the long run. For better, for worse and all that.’
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