“It isn’t?” I found myself asking, even though I could really care less.
“Succession is essential,” he continued. “Particularly when finances and family are intertwined.”
I said nothing and Collin continued as though I had invited him to.
“I have made a proposal,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “A sensible one. Designed to ensure continuity.”
My patience tightened and I resigned myself to the inevitable. “A proposal?”
“I began with Jane,” he went on. “Naturally. She has a very agreeable temperament.”
“What sort of proposal?” I asked, a little uncertain of where this was going.
“A marriage proposal. A partnership to ensure that the inn stays within the family. It is simply the most logical outcome,” Collin told me serenely.
In the background I saw Lydia come to a full stop as she saw who was seated at the table with me. A flicker of panic crossed her face before she approached.
“Collin, would you like some coffee? Maybe a seat at another table? I see one opening up right now,” she noted, her voice strained.
“I’m quite happy where I am. Yes to the coffee,” Collin happily replied.
Lydia backed up a little, mouthing ‘sorry’ at me before disappearing again.
Just what was going on here?
“Where was I? Oh yes, I proposed to Jane however she was regrettably already in a relationship,” Collin imparted. He didn’t sound particularly regretful. “The next sister, Lucy, has been a bit more difficult. I have proposed to her five times, twice yesterday and three times this morning, but she claims she also is in a relationship. I feel she is not being truthful with me and just needs a little more time to become comfortable with the idea of wedding me.”
I thought back to my case file where it had been noted that she came to the police station with Dexter Fitzwilliam. “I believe she is in a relationship.”
“How disappointing. The next Bennet sister that intrigues me is Lydia. I shall have to discuss my suit with her next,” he said brightly, as though this were an obvious conclusion.
My stomach turned. This man was slightly deranged. “Do you think she would accept you?”
“I don’t see why not,” Collin said.
“Perhaps because you haven’t dated her, or romanced her,” I pointed out.
His smile wavered. “You misunderstand. This is not romantic. It is practical.”
“I would recommend you reconsider how you define both words,” I replied.
He studied me, unused to resistance. “I am confident Lydia will see reason.”
“You know what? I think I will sit at another table. Excuse me." I picked up my coffee and found an empty table to sit at.
Good grief.
Breakfast arrived and it was as good as it looked. The only thing I could fault it for was being too generous on the portion size. Otherwise, I enjoyed every bit of it. Paying my bill, I headed to the lobby to find Lydia who stood at the front desk, binder open, phone balanced between her shoulder and ear. She ended the call as I approached, her expression intent.
“Do you have a moment?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said immediately. “Of course.”
“I need to review your parade float submission,” I said.
Her mouth opened, then closed again. “Right. Yes. The float.”
She turned the binder toward me. Pages of notes. Sketches. Enthusiastic arrows pointing between ideas that had not yet met reality.
