‘Mmm.’ He wasn’t looking at her, even though his thoughts were most definitely on her. On her and on the chat they would have to have before the evening was over. He hoped to God that she wouldn’t break down on him but, if she did, then whose fault was it? His. His, because he should have ended this relationship a long time ago and not relied on fondness to see them through. He could have kicked himself.
‘I think that means yes,’ Destiny offered lightly.
‘And how would you know what I mean?’ His voice was cold. They both turned to him with varying expressions of surprise and discomfiture, but it was Stephanie who, amazingly, exploded.
‘Why do you have to be so rude? Why can’t you just relax a little and stop acting as though everyone has to do as you say? You…you…you…’ Her brief outburst of valiance tapered off while Destiny groaned inwardly and wondered miserably whether her casual words of advice had been taken to heart. She was now a spectator at a scene in which two opponents faced one another, one with an expression of shock but defiance, the other with grim determination.
‘I think, Destiny,’ Callum said, looking at his fiancée, ‘that it’s time you relaxed before dinner. Deirdre is in the kitchen. She’ll show you up to your room.’
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN Destiny emerged two hours later, she found Stephanie by herself in the kitchen. The table was set, but for two and Stephanie was busily fussing around the stove with a pair of oven gloves on her hands. She’d pulled her hair back into a high ponytail and was wearing a pair of culottes and a silk blouse.
‘Callum’s gone,’ she said, answering the question that hadn’t yet been asked.
‘Gone where?’
‘Back to London. And I told Harold and Deirdre that there was no need for them to stay and see about dinner for the two of us.’
‘So you cooked all of this yourself?’ She couldn’t help it, but there was incredulity in her voice because the smells emanating from the various dishes were mouth-watering and she had somehow never imagined her stepcousin to be much of a hand when it came to culinary skills.
‘Lord, no.’ Stephanie looked at her and grinned. ‘Are you crazy? Toast and scrambled egg are about the only two things I can manage. No, Deirdre cooked all this up herself and gave me very strict instructions on how long I was supposed to heat everything for. She seemed to think that I would wreck her meal.’
‘And you haven’t.’
‘Well, the soufflé is in the bin, actually. Forgot it in the oven, and by the time I remembered it was a sad, deflated black mass.’ She brought various dishes to the table, filled their glasses with wine and sat down with a little sigh. ‘There’s enough food to feed an army here. Hope you’re hungry because I’ve lost my appetite.’
‘There was no need for you to rise to my defence back then, Stephanie,’ Destiny said awkwardly. ‘I’m very sorry if…you know… I mean, I wouldn’t like to think that you got yourself into trouble because of me…’ She looked at the little figure, ridiculously fragile without her usual make-up and with her hair pulled back, toying with the birdlike proportions of food on her plate.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault.’ Stephanie picked up a few vegetables on her fork and proceeded to survey them without much interest. Then she rested her fork on her plate and gulped back some of her wine instead. ‘We really should have called it a day a long time ago, but things have a habit of drifting on. On and on and on. We never really argued, but then we never really spoke either. We’ve just been trundling along for the past few months. No excitement, no magic—just two people who got on reasonably well and saw no reason to have any kind of confrontation.’
Until I came along, was the thought that guiltily occurred to Destiny as she tucked into her food. The spread on the table more than compensated for the lunchtime offering of leaves and cold meats, and it was traditional food. Her meals out thus far, in restaurants, had been small, prettily presented plates of various things drizzled with strange juices and accompanied by delicate titbits of vegetables arranged in appetising but unsatisfactory designs. This was hearty food and manna to a ravenous appetite.
‘So it’s all over?’
‘I gave him back his ring and, to be honest, I was pretty relieved. It was all very civilised, actually. More of a discussion than any kind of argument. Callum hates scenes. You could say that we parted the best of friends.’
‘Well, that’s something at least.’