‘You’re certain you still want me to meet them?’ she asked. He lifted her hands and kissed her knuckles. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how I feel, but if you think it’s the right time…’
‘Well, I could always just keep you as my mistress and marry someone more suitable,’ he teased.
Hope swatted at Gus, but he expertly ducked out of her way, grinning at her as he went. He was insufferable sometimes, but he made her feel happier and lighter than she’d felt in a long time, content in a way she’d never believed possible.
Only the next night, still feeling as if she might start yawning from their previous late night, Hope sat across from Gus’s parents. She’d have been lying if she said she didn’t want to bolt straight for the door, but the sweet smiles that his sister was giving her were helping to bolster her confidence. Thank goodness for Marie, for making the evening bearable.
‘I understand that your family has been in the gin-distilling business for some time,’ Hope said, trying her best to make polite conversation with his father.
‘Did you tell her that before or after she attached herself to you?’
Hope bristled at his mother’s muttered words, but she pretended she hadn’t heard them, smiling sweetly at his father as he lowered his glass to answer her. She didn’t know why she’d been marked so easily as some sort of gold-digger, but she refused to stoop so low as to even acknowledge the accusation.
‘My grandfather started the business, and I’ve been fortunate to be at the helm for some time now,’ he replied. ‘And to have my son learning the ropes, although it’s yet to be seen whether he has the fortitude to run such a business. It’s not for the faint-hearted, and we have quite the reputation to uphold.’
Hope almost choked on her wine, but she quickly coughed and tried to disguise her horror.Yet to be seen?She exchanged a quick glance with Gus, but his face remained impassive, and he gave her a small smile. His sister was grinning though, which made Hope wonder just how much she knew, despite the fact that Gus had said he wouldn’t tell her until she was of age. If shedidknow, she was clearly very good at keeping secrets.
‘And what of your family, Hope? What is it that your father does? Do you have siblings?’
Hope took a breath, relieved when Gus’s little finger brushed hers where she had it placed on the velvet sofa. She had to keep reminding herself that it didn’t matter what his parents said or thought; it was only Gus’s opinion that mattered to her.
‘My father is a mushroom grower, and I have three brothers,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘My eldest brother attended university, and my younger…’ Hope’s voice trailed away, and she didn’t even finish what she was saying.
She sensed the way Gus’s mother looked down her nose at her. It was clear her father’s job was not good enough for her to be considered worthy of her son.
‘They don’t mind you living away from home? I’d have thought a daughter would want to stay close to her parents until she was married? Especially the only daughter.’
Hope found it hard not to grit her teeth. ‘They would have preferred me to stay, however I wanted to see more of France, and I thoroughly enjoyed my time living and working in Paris.’
‘So you’ve worked to support yourself?’ his mother asked, her eyebrows arched. ‘Your parents weren’t able to financially?—’
‘Mother!’ Gus interrupted. ‘That’s quite enough of interrogating Hope. She came to join us for a casual family dinner, and you seem to have taken it upon yourself to interview her. Please let her enjoy her meal and somepleasantconversation.’
His mother gave him a sweet smile, and Hope only wished it didn’t appear so fake. ‘It’s only that I presume you’ve been spending so much time together, if that is indeed the reason you haven’t been home often. I want to know everything there is to know about your new friend.’
Gus’s father cleared his throat and Hope was grateful for the diversion. She took a long sip of her wine and turned her attention to him, although something about the drink didn’t sit well with her stomach. She swallowed a few times, hoping no one noticed, but the feeling only intensified when she took another sip of wine.
Hope took a breath and willed the nausea away, thinking that perhaps she had a stomach upset. Only last night she’d felt queasy when they’d toasted their latest batch of absinthe, and she’d had to abstain from having any more.
‘I’m sorry to bore you all with business,’ his father said, distracting her from her churning stomach. ‘But Gus, have youheard that there’s more of that ghastly absinthe making its way into the city? Just when I thought it had been stamped out, it’s threatening to overshadow gin once more.’
Hope froze, wishing that she could stop nursing her drink and actually take a proper sip again without feeling sick, but she didn’t want to risk it. She clenched her fingers, hoping no one noticed the shaking of her hand.
‘It’s the drink of choice among many,’ Gus said, quietly and calmly. ‘Perhaps making it illegal has only caused patrons of certain establishments to be more inclined to want it? I certainly doubt that it will ever take over in popularity from gin, especially of the quality we produce.’
‘Well, if you ask me, I think it’s abhorrent, that illegal bootleggers could take a hold of the market we’ve worked so hard to secure. They need to hunt them down and throw them in prison, send a message to anyone who wants to follow their lead.’
‘Wouldn’t they need access to a distillery?’ his mother asked. ‘Which might point a finger to our competitors.’
Gus turned to Hope, his eyes telling her that everything was going to be all right, even as her heart began to race. It was as if his parents knew of their deceit and were teasing them, which of course she knew was absurd.
‘Mother, I’m half-starved, it’s been such a long day. Shall we go through to dinner?’
His mother seemed pleased with the suggestion and Hope stood when Gus did, taking the arm he offered.
‘It’ll be over soon,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘I’m sorry, I should never have brought you here. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
Hope squeezed his forearm, dropping her head to his shoulder for the briefest of seconds. But it wasn’t fast enough toavoid his mother’s sharp stare, as if she’d just caught her trying to stab her son rather than show affection.
