“Not right now,” Papa says. “The baby isn’t going anywhere, but the fiancé situation is convoluted. Bigamy isn’t just immoral, it’s illegal.”
Translation: We’ll talk about the pregnancy when only the family is present.
Mama purses her mouth as she looks at Edgar. “That’s an ugly ring you gave my daughter.”
The urge to bang my forehead against the wall behind me bubbles inside me. Why can’t I make a simple disagreeable engagement announcement without an incident?
“Ma’am, that is not my ring.” Edgar looks at the pathetic hardware on my finger with the contempt and disgust he probably reserves for poop stains. “I would never lower my standard that way. It’d be an insult to the woman I planned to marry.”
Papa raises both eyebrows.
Edgar pulls out a small black velvet box. All the air in my lungs goes still. And it’s not just me. The whole room holds its collective breath.
I try to rein in my fluttering heart. Knowing him, I can imagine exactly what he bought—something really expensive but too conservative for my taste. Edgar just doesn’t know me well enough. He only got a ring because it’s the proper thing to do and that’s who he is.
He pops the lid open. The most gorgeous brilliant-cut diamond sparkles on a platinum band. Small rubies surround the stone, creating an effect like a burning sun.
And I immediately fall in love with it. It’s exactly the kind of ring I would’ve picked out for myself.
My family and relatives crane their necks. Some even stand to see better.
“Oh my,” Mama says softly.
“Now, that’s a ring,” Angel says, two thumbs up. He winks at me.
He’s right. If this were any other situation, tears of joy would be heating my eyes as I got ready to say, “Yes.”
But this isn’t a normal situation. It’s so messy and complicated. I wager nobody in this room, except me and Edgar, knows that even if Aaron’s blackmail weren’t a factor and Edgar and I happened to love each other, marrying Edgar would mean moving. Half a continent away, where I would know nobody except my husband-to-be.
Edgar grows even more serious, which is surprising, since I didn’t think that was possible. He looks at me with gaze so intent that it seems to bore straight into the core of my soul. “Jo—”
“Wait!” Tío Manny says, raising a hand.
Maybe my dear uncle is going to come to my rescue. Yay!
“Before you propose… You haven’t even introduced yourself!” he says with a deep frown.
Ugh, come on! I prefer nobody knows who Edgar is, but my family and relatives start to grumble. But there’s no point in hiding his identity. Hugo knows, and he’ll crack like a watermelon when his mama gets around to questioning him.
“You’re right, Manny. We don’t even know his name,” Papa says disapprovingly.
“It wasn’t his fault. We never gave him a chance,” Mama says, probably because she loves the ring.
Edgar’s spine stiffens. “You’re entirely correct, and I beg your pardon. My name is Edgar Blackwood. Pleased to meet you all. May I continue now?”
“No. Not yet.” Papa crosses his arms. “Other than that ring—which, okay, is really nice—what do you bring to the table, young man?”
Chapter Fifteen
Edgar
What do you bring to the table, young man?
The question is actually a bit stunning. Nobody has ever asked me that. Ever since I was a small child, I was welcomed, if not on my own merits, then for my family—the wealth and power they represent.
I take a slow look at the people in the room. Some of them are dressed in designer outfits, others in T-shirts and jeans. Some of the men have ties, some don’t. A few seem curious, but the rest are outright disapproving or even belligerent.
But what unites them all is that they care for Jo. They want to make sure I don’t hurt her.