He returned the grin. ‘Goes without saying.’
‘But I also had supper with Dan and Zoe last night.’
‘How was their trip?’
‘It sounded fantastic.’
‘Did you tell them about the pregnancy?’
She nodded. ‘I did.’
‘How did Dan take it?’
‘Oh, fine,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘Eventually.’
Marcus went still, the hand holding his fork freezing midway to his mouth. ‘Eventually?’
‘For a moment I think he wanted to punch your lights out, but, realising it’s not really any of his business, he got over it quickly enough.’
He frowned and put down the fork. Hmm. He should have guessed that while Dan would be fine with him dating Celia, he might not be so fine about the fact that his best mate had knocked up his sister.
But as that was a conversation he wasn’t particularly looking forward to and didn’t need to worry about tonight he put it from his mind. ‘Do your parents know yet?’
‘I rang them today.’
‘And what did they say?’ he asked, and braced himself for the news that her father, like son, had taken it badly and was bearing down on him even as they sat there.
‘My mother was beside herself with excitement, and offered her full support and help.’
‘And your father?’
Celia’s smile turned wry. ‘Ah, yes, well, after declaring himself delighted you’d taken him up on his suggestion, he said something about one out of three being a start. Not exactly being a new man, though, he wasn’t quite so forthcoming with an offer of support and help. But he seemed pleased enough.’
‘One out of three?’
‘The baby. Marriage and a proper home being the other two.’
‘Do they mind about you not being married?’ he asked, thinking it best to avoid the subject of homes if he didn’t want to have to discuss and retract the offer he’d made her in a moment of giddy recklessness.
‘Surprisingly not,’ she said, and then paused as if a thought had crossed her mind. ‘Although I imagine that neither of them have much faith in the institution after what they went through so maybe it’s not all that surprising.’
‘They’ve never remarried, have they?’
Celia shook her head. ‘No. I think my mother’s too scarred by the experience and my father’s having too much fun leching after twenty-five-year-olds.’
‘Did the divorce scar you?’
She started as if startled by the question. ‘Me? Oh. Well. Not really. I mean, I was fourteen when they finally split and it was pretty horrendous but things had been awful for years. Dad had been having affairs practically since the ink was dry on the marriage certificate although I don’t think Mum found out until a few years later. But I’ve nothing against marriage as a concept, and I’d quite like to do it one day. Although with things the way they are,’ she said, indicating her abdomen with a wave of her hand, ‘I can’t see myself doing anything about that for a while.’
‘No,’ he muttered, a stab of guilt prodding him in the stomach as he collected up the plates and cleared the table.
‘So what’s put you off marriage?’
Marcus picked up a dish in the middle of which sat a chocolate tart, then sat down and used the business of cutting it into slices and sliding one onto the side plate she was holding up to think about just how open he wanted to be. The answer to which was, not a lot. ‘What makes you think I’m against marriage?’ he hedged.
She put her plate down and grinned. ‘The look of horror that you had when I brought it up.’
‘Right.’