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So Cameron. I felt the vein at my temple start to throb. Would that guy never give up? Was grandmother's inheritance so important to him? Why was he spreading these rumors about me?
"You haven't answered my question, Carter. Are you with Isabella or not?" My grandmother could be persistent.
So could I.
I remained silent.
I had already answered that question.
"You see, I heard something else. That's why I just asked you if Isabella is the best woman for you. Abigail's father just called me. He said you and Abigail were considering reconciling." My grandmother took a deep breath.
What? Donovan Hayden Ellesmere had called my grandmother? That man really stopped at nothing. Or had Abigail put him up to it?
"He'd like that," I grumbled. "He's tried several times to pressure me into letting Abigail back into my life. But I won't do it. I didn't want to before I met Isabella, and I don't want to now."
"Donovan said more. Please let me finish, Carter. It's less about Abigail and more about whether Isabella is the right woman for you!" My grandmother tapped her silver cane energetically on the floor. I was grateful she didn't jab it between my ribs again. That had been quite unpleasant.
"Donovan met you at a hotel. Isabella showed up there too. Your fiancée. Or supposed fiancée."
"That's correct," I confirmed.
"It all seemed a bit strange to him. You and Isabella, you didn't seem very trusting to him..."
Well, well. Good old Donovan had better observational skills than I thought.
"He just imagined that," I brushed it off.
"And a certain Owen also came to the hotel."
Owen? I frowned. Who was that again? "I don't know any Owen," I said. "At least I can't remember anyone by that name who was at the hotel that evening."
"A man Isabella got into an argument with."
Oh, right. So that was Owen. The unpleasant guy I'd thrown out.
"I didn't know his name was Owen," I replied. "If you'll excuse me now. I need to get back to Isabella urgently." I was tired of this topic, nodded to my grandmother, and made my way out. But I didn't get far.
"Donovan observed you throwing Owen out of the hotel. Then he talked to Owen. About you. And about Isabella." My grandmother's voice made me stop.
"What gives him the right?" The vein at my temple started to throb. "He seems to have a great interest in us," I sneered. How dare Donovan spy on me?
My grandmother remained undeterred. "He found out things you should know."
"Oh really?" I asked, only half interested. But my grandmother's next words woke me up. More than that.
They hit me like a sledgehammer.
"Owen is Isabella Abbott's fiancé. And so, my dear Carter, I wonder how it can be that you bring Isabella here today and present her as your fiancée. Since I don't assume you're stupid enough to get involved with a woman who's already engaged..." My grandmother straightened her shoulders. "You lied to me!" While my grandmother had initially sounded sad, her voice had become more energetic towards the end, and an indignant spark had crept into her eyes. Family honor meant everything to my grandmother.
What had she just said?
Owen was Isabella's fiancé?
"That can't be," I said confidently. "Isabella and Owen... no." I shook my head, remembering how desperately Isabella had wanted to get rid of Owen. Surely that wasn't her fiancé.
Or was it?
A doubtful voice spoke up in the back of my mind.