Ingrid studies my sisters, putting a few pieces together. “Wait? Don’t you all have children?”
“We do.” Suze grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she leans back. “All girls.”
“And my baby factory is closed for good.” Juna taps her knife on her plate. “Four girls are all I can handle. I made sure of that after my last C-section.”
“Two’s enough for me,” Suze admits. “I have an IUD. And don’t plan on getting it removed. Plus… well, that’s a conversation for another day.”
“I’d have more if I could,” Lina sighs. “But after my third nearly killed me, my doctor advised me to stop. Which is why my husband stepped up and got a vasectomy.”
“Oh?” Ingrid blinks a few times. “Well, I’m not in a hurry to have babies. I’m not even twenty-one yet. Even though we plan to get married, babies are several years away.”
“Best news of the day,” my mother says with a huge smile on her face. “There is hope yet.”
I lift Ingrid’s left hand, where my ring sits on her ring finger. “Not really. I talked her into marrying me, didn’t I? And we’re doing that very soon. In a few short months.”
The color drains from my mother’s face, leaving it ashen. “But it takes at least a year to plan a wedding, Darius.”
Ingrid rests her head against my shoulder, her soft auburn hair brushing my cheek. “I don’t care about a big wedding. I just want to marry your son, Geneva. I’m not picky; a courthouse wedding would be just fine.”
“No, you cannot.” My mother pushes herself up, her hands pressed firmly against the table. “Falcon’s do not get married in courthouses. If my son insists on getting married to…you…then we will do it right. With the girls and me handling it, you can be sure the job gets done properly. Won’t we, girls?”
“Of course,” all three of them say, smiling.
Funny how quickly Mother had a change of heart when she thought her only son, a duke, wouldn’t have a proper society wedding. She’ll still be a pain in the arse, but now I know how to keep her in line until the nuptials.
“Now, when do you plan on doing this? July or maybe October?” Mother is doing her best to push it as far back as she can without making it too obvious.
Before I can say anything, Ingrid blurts out. “I was thinking of April. It’s the same month Darius trampled his way into my life and feels like the right month. I hope that’s not too soon.”
“Not soon enough,” I say just so she’s clear and my mother knows where I stand. “I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. First of all, you’re still healing.” Snapping her fingers, Mother makes it official. “April should be fine. It’ll be pushing it, but I think we can make it work. Everyone will think the worst, assume this is happening because you are… with child. It’s a good thing that’s not true.”
The duchess turns and walks into the kitchen, pulling out her phone. Good grief, she’s on a mission now.
A smile spreads across Ingrid’s face as she looks at me. “I’d marry you today if I thought you felt well enough to do it. But it’s probably better we wait. Maybe your mother will come around by April.”
“Doubtful, but maybe.” I kiss her nose.
“Now, who wants cake?” Mother asks as she returns with my favorite. “I made this just for you, son. I know how much you love my carrot cake.”
After my sisters sing happy birthday to me and we all have a piece of cake, Ingrid gets this look on her face and says, “Hmm,if your mother can make carrot cake, then it can’t be that hard, right?”
I shrug. Seems logical, since the only thing my mother dares to make is this. Maybe my soon-to-be wife will also be able to make my favorite cake. The best part after all is the cream cheese frosting.
Hmm, maybe that’s why I love her frosting so much—it’s sweet and addictive, just like this one. Actually, it’s better. And before this day ends, I plan on licking it off her. It’s been way too long since I’ve done that.
Chapter 26
Ingrid
Late February
Keeping Darius alive means babysitting a man who refuses to be told no. Rest. Pills. Therapy. He thinks he’s above it all, like almost dying was just an inconvenience.
It’s exhausting.
With a heavy heart, I’ve decided against returning to Princeton. I couldn’t leave him after all that’s happened. If I leave, he’ll break all the rules. Overdo it and end up back in the hospital. He needs me here. Leaving would only mean he’d follow me, setting his recovery back months. And I can’t have that. His mother already hates me. Plus, the University of Geneva is top-notch. It’s where Darius and Esteban met and earned their degrees. Seems logical to transfer there once he’s back on his feet and life returns to normal.
