Page 32 of No Going Back

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The study door was closed—not a good sign. For a moment, Guy debated whether he should leave well alone. Then he remembered how harried Ros had looked at breakfast and knocked, pausing a moment before pushing the door open.

Seated at the desk, her head in her hands, Ros was surrounded by leaflets and brochures. Her laptop, the screen displaying a swirling screensaver, sat to one side, and her mobile phone appeared to be charging.

“Simon doesn’t know it yet, but we’re eloping.”

The gritty statement was made through clenched teeth. Guy sympathised, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with taking the easy way out. His eye was caught by one leaflet in particular. “Hey, you’re not going to let a few ribbons and table decorations deprive me of the privilege of giving you away, are you?”

Ros slumped even further, resting her chin on arms folded on top of the desk. If her stubborn pout belonged to the teenager who’d moved in a lifetime ago, her mournful gaze reminded him of the Tregowans’ springer spaniel. That dog certainly knew how to wheedle extra treats out of her humans.

“Tempted though I am, it wouldn’t be the same without you,” she admitted with a soft smile. “Or Heather and Rob, and everyone else on the guest list.”

“And you know what they want most? It’s not some flashy society event where everything’s perfect—it’s to see you and Simon start your lives together.”

The change in her expression acknowledged the truth in his words. “So long as it’s perfect for Simon, that’s all that matters.”

“And what do you suppose will make it perfect for Simon?”

Ros gave him a satisfyingly blank look. At least he could now make a useful contribution. “I’m glad you asked,” he continued with a grin. “Speaking as a mere man, the day will be perfect for Simon if, at the end of it, he’s your husband and you’re his wife. Your signatures on the marriage register—that’s all you need. That’s the big picture. Everything else is the frame. It doesn’t matter what the frame looks like, it’s the picture that’s important.”

Guy planted himself on the corner of the desk. What he was about to suggest would no doubt give rise to an explosion of curiosity and a possible multitude of questions. Sometimes, though, sacrifices had to be made, and it looked like his privacy was going on the altar.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can to help with the wedding. However, you know as well as I do, I’ll be as much use as a chocolate teapot when it comes to, shall we say, the aesthetic side of things?”

“I know.” Ros chuckled. “I’m still not convinced you’re not colour-blind.”

Guy gave a non-committal shrug. He wasn’t, but it was fair to say his interior design skills were somewhat lacking. “I know you don’t want to have Heather working on this. I also know you don’t want to give Simon even more stress while he’s commissioning the research centre. Have you thought about sharing the decision-making with a couple of your friends?”

“I need more friends outside the services.” Ros waved her hand over the sprawling mass of promotional materials. “This sort of thing would be as much a mystery to them as it is to me.”

Which was pretty much what Guy suspected. “There is someone else who could help out with this.”

Ros raised her eyebrows. “Who might that be, and do I need to bribe them? If so, what will it take?”

“No bribe necessary. She’s already volunteered.”

“And you were going to tell me about this when?”

“When you got desperate enough—which is now, by the way.”

For a day that had got off to a spectacularly bad start, yesterday had come to a spectacularly good close. An afternoon of incredibly debauched sex would do that. Guy hadn’t stayed the night with Maddie, but over dinner, their conversation had turned to Ros’ wedding.

Quite how he’d managed to talk her around, Guy still wasn’t sure. He was too grateful for the fact that she no longer saw her relationship with him and her business relationship with Ros as mutually exclusive. He’d even coaxed her into being a little more open about the two of them being a couple now, even if it was only with his nearest and dearest. She’d then amazed him with an offer he regarded as nothing short of a miracle.

“So who is this wonderful person?”

“Maddie.”

Ros’ eyebrows went even higher. “Maddie? Remington Grange Maddie?”

“The same.”

“I don’t recall her saying anything like that.”

Guy shifted, bracing himself for her reaction. “That’s because you weren’t there when she said it.”

Ros’ gaze didn’t waver as she processed the admission. Forever afterwards, Guy would swear he could see the pieces slotting into place.