"Well!" Isobel waved a delicate hand. "That was fast. Tell me, darling, are we to expect a baby in the next eight months as well?"
The fury came quickly and had him lashing out at the implication that Catherine was pregnant.
"We prefer to get married first before starting a family," he told her coolly, reining in his temper. "Now, remember what I said when you issued this invitation. One out-of-place remark and we're leaving. Personally, I would have preferred to skip the dinner altogether, but Catherine would not hear of it. She has this tendency to think that people are inherently good, even though I warned her that was not the case. What's it to be? Are we going to try and behave like a civilized family, or do we take our leave right now? Bear in mind that I also mentioned the fact that I would prefer to get a special license and get married in Vegas, but she wants a church wedding and would like to involveall of you." His eyes were like chips of sapphire as they swept over each of them. "Well?"
Forcing a smile to her lips, Isobel rose gracefully with the aid of her husband and came forward.
"Welcome to our home, my dear." She held out both hands in greeting.
Pulling away from Dean's tight hold, she took the proffered hands and offered a gracious smile.
"Thanks for inviting me."
The greeting opened up the way for the others to come forward. Dean stiffened when his father came forward, a smile wreathing his lips.
"She's a beauty, son. You've chosen well."
"Thank you," Dean said stiffly, deliberately clamping his hand on Catherine's arm. A knowing glint entered the older man's eyes, but he heeded the warning and simply extended a hand.
"Nice to meet you, my dear."
"Ah, the bell." Isobel swept towards the doorway. "Let's adjourn to the dining room."
And Dean was right. They interrogated her as soon as they sat down to the meal. The dining room was lofty, the walls paneled in deep dark wood. It would have been suffocatingly dark and dreary except for the myriad of windows that offered a dazzling view of the rose garden. The table could seat twenty people easily.
Two maids stood to attention as they awaited instructions. As soon as the first course was served, the questions started.
"My son tells us that you're a kindergarten teacher." Isobel started under the guise of interest. "It must be gratifying to be able to try and mold young minds."
"It is. There's nothing more satisfying than spending time with children of that age."
"And your mother, she died?"
"Yes. Two years ago."
"Your father left?" The question continued.
"He did." She could feel Dean's displeasure mounting but was determined to keep the serene expression on her face. "I'm sure you also heard that during the time he left, I started acting out. I was a complete wreck and caused my mother acute grief by doing everything possible to prove that I was bad." She lifted her head and met the woman's gaze squarely. "My past was very eventful, but it made me who I am now."
"You don't owe anyone an explanation." Dean decided it was time to put a stop to the line of questioning. "She's marrying me and I happen to like the person she is." His expression clearly stated that the interrogation was at an end.
As the evening progressed, Catherine was beginning to understand why Dean was the way he was, and also why his sister looked so unhappy. The tenseness at the table was oppressive. The siblings only spoke to each other. The sister's husband Charles sat in uncomfortable silence, casting uneasy glances at Dean. The parents ate in studied silence, barely looking at each other. The utensils barely made any sound. The maids cleared the dishes after each course, careful not to make a sound, and whisked to what Catherine assumed was the kitchen.
Dean was also right about her not fitting in. She felt uncomfortable. She had always prided herself on being able to like everyone. After her near-death experiences, she had gone out of her way to mend bridges and be a person who wasabove reproach. But the more time she spent with his parents especially, the more she realized that they were not very nice.
She had to force herself not to give the nod to leave. She had told Dean she wanted to try and get along with the people who were going to be her in-laws, and she was not a person who gave up easily.
By the time the coffee and crème brûlée was served, she was ready to go. And he sensed it. Cutting the conversation that had sprung up when they adjourned to the "small" blue and white salon, he hustled her out of the house.
He had just opened the passenger door and ushered her in when his sister came rushing out.
Glancing at Catherine, she nodded and offered a faint smile before turning to her brother.
"May I speak with you for a minute?"
He hesitated briefly, before nodding curtly and slamming the door shut. They walked over to the water fountain.
"She's beautiful."