Harvard couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be even more fun than he’d anticipated. “Remember, you agreed to marry me. Which means we’re in love. So, act like you adore me and can’t keep your hands off me, and everything will be fine.”
The look she gave him would have made a lesser man lose control of his bladder. “After this is over, I will make you suffer.” Not waiting for a reply, she climbed out of the car.
Harvard took a second to admire the way she smoothed down her dress. The black knee-length sheath had an asymmetrical neckline that was too damn tempting for a man who was supposed to be on his best behavior. And those signature black heels of hers? They slayed him.
Shaking his head to clear the daze of lust Rachel induced, he climbed out of the car and went to meet the parents.
Chapter Three
“Darling!” Her mother held out her arms to Rachel as soon as she stepped from the car. The countess was always impatient when she was excited. And in her mother’s mind, Rachel bringing home a man was definitely cause for excitement. Even when that man was purely a work colleague, which her mother knew full well.
Rachel narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she strode up the steps to wrap the slender woman in a hug. Unlike her friends, Rachel’s family didn’t do air-kisses. No. They did proper hugs. It had been the source of much humiliation as a child. “There’s no need to pretend when we’re alone,” she said.
“Nonsense,” her mother whispered, as though there was someone to overhear. “Your lovely gentleman told Roger it would be best to stay in character at all times. It’s thrilling. I haven’t had this much fun since the sixties.”
And that there was exactly the reason Rachel had suggested keeping her mother in the dark.
Breaking the embrace, she stepped back and felt a hand come to rest on the small of her back. She stiffened before remembering she was supposed to be familiar with Harvard’s touch. Forcing a smile, she set about getting the introductions over.
“Mother, this is Michael Carter. People call him Harvard. I have no idea why. Michael, this is my mother, Lady Francesca Ford-Talbot.”
“Michael, or should I call you Harvard?” her mother exclaimed. “I’m utterly delighted to welcome you to the family. It’s about time Rachel settled down. I can’t wait to get to know you better.” And with that, she enfolded Harvard in a hug.
As her father groaned and looked skyward, Rachel glared at him. This whole thing was his fault. He, more than anyone, knew his wife had a wicked sense of humor that would get them all into trouble.
“Call me whatever you like,” Harvard said when her mother released him. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to meet before this.”
Great. Apparently, they were all pretending, even when there was absolutely no need.
“Please, don’t apologize.” Her mother shot Rachel a chastising look. “It isn’t as though Rachel lives in my pocket. If it weren’t for these monthly dinners, I’m not sure when I’d see my daughter.” She took Harvard’s arm. “Do you know, you’re the first man she’s ever brought home? And I do mean ever. Although, there was her friend Harry, but he doesn’t really count as it was never a romantic relationship. I very much hope you’ll be a good influence on her and make sure you both visit more often once you’re wed.”
Okay. That was it. Rachel had known from the start that taking part in an undercover op with her family was a bad idea, but if her mother was going to use the situation to make digs all evening, she was going home.
She turned back toward her car, but her father caught her arm. “We’re suffering through this together,” he muttered to her as he strode into the house, taking her with him.
“This is all your fault,” she told him. “You’re the one who came to Benson Security and demanded I take part in the investigation. And now look what’s happening. Mother is taking advantage of the situation to drive me crazy.”
Her mother smiled over her shoulder. “Come along, you two. Everybody’s waiting.”
Rachel tripped on the rug, and her father’s hold tightened on her arm. “Everybody?”
“Oh, yes.” Her mother sounded dangerously pleased with herself. “My only daughter is getting married. That calls for a celebration. I’ve invited the whole family.”
Any second now, Rachel’s head would explode. She felt the pressure build as she glared up at her father. “And you couldn’t send me a text to let me know what she was up to?”
He looked pained.
“No, he couldn’t,” her mother said. “I swore him to secrecy. If you’d got even a whiff of there being a party, you would have made an excuse not to come.”
“So, you decided to blindside me instead?”
“Yes.” Her mother was clearly delighted. “I’m thrilled it worked. Now, come along. It isn’t every day your daughter brings home a fiancé that her mother hasn’t even met.”
“She does know this isn’t real, right?” Rachel whispered to her father.
“Yes, she does, but she’s decided to use our unusual circumstances to make a point.”
The point being that Rachel was too distanced from her family and not settling down fast enough for her mother’s liking. “If she doesn’t calm down, I won’t visit for a year after this is over.”
Her father clutched his chest as though in pain. “Don’t even joke about it. The woman would hunt you to the ends of the earth if you did that, and she’d drag me along with her. And then we’d all suffer. Isn’t one heart attack enough for me? Do you really want to give me another?”
“Whatever,” Rachel grumbled, “but I’m definitely making Harvard pay.”
“That I can live with,” he said.
The interior of the house wasn’t what Harvard had expected. He’d obviously seen one too many English historical dramas because he’d thought the place would be wall-to-wall burgundy flocked paper and ornate moldings. He’d imagined darkly painted portraits of previous generations and antique furniture with the kind of spindly legs that a man his size would worry about breaking.
Instead, the walls were cream and the floors a polished wood, strewn with tasteful throw rugs. There were a few pieces of contemporary art, most of which he recognized as being the work of well-known British artists. The furniture was sleek, solid and modern. The kind that would entice a person to sit awhile and relax. In fact, it was exactly the type of house Harvard would have liked for himself.
“The stuffed animal heads, suits of armor and bad Renaissance paintings are all in the main house,” Francesca said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I was that obvious?” Usually he was good at hiding what he thought. His life had depended on the skill on more than one occasion.
“No, it’s the reaction most people have if they haven’t been inside Talbot House first. It was a good bet you were thinking the same. When Roger saw Talbot House, he told me it was magnificent, but he had no desire to live in it. As soon as we were married, he had plans to get us out of there. And he was right. It was a terrible place to live, but a wonderful place to share. If buildings had feelings, I’ve always thought the house must be happier now that it’s being fully used. And I do love it when we host a wedding there. It brightens the place up.”