“This is how I support myself and my daughter,” she declared harshly, enjoying the flash of recognition on Marion’s face. “I see you recognize the name.”
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Marion stared up at her, eyes wide in reluctant admiration. “This is you? I’ve read them all. They’re very good. You certainly know your craft.”
“Thank you,” Laurie muttered and fixed Marion in her steady regard. Her tone turned obstinate and frosty. “Now that I have proven I will not be sponging off your son, do you have any other objections?”
Brown eyes blazing with fury at being upstaged, Marion snapped her mouth shut and slowly shook her head. Having neatly put the woman in her place, Laurie smirked and shot Damien a triumphant glance. His dark eyes gleamed approval. He burst into laughter, snagged her hand, and tugged her onto his lap.
Laurie smiled at him and swept an errant lock of hair from his forehead. Glancing at her guests, she caught the flash of a thoughtful expression on Marion’s carefully made up face. She also noted more disapproval, aimed not at her but at Damien.
“What will you do now that you’re finally out of the Navy, Damien?” Marion turned her interrogation on her son.
Laurie wondered at the icy disdain with which Marion spoke of the Navy. Had she disapproved? Why? Damien had made a career, a good one, of defending his country—the one in which she enjoyed complete freedom. She owed that freedom to Damien and all other soldiers.
“I work at Somerset,” Damien replied, his stern tone and the hard glint in his eyes discouraging further questions.
Laurie watched him, took in the rigid set of his features. Oh yes, the Navy was a definite sore spot between mother and son. Déjà vu, she thought sadly as she remembered the harsh words and bitter estrangement over career choice between her and Marjorie. She sincerely wished Damien better luck with his family. George had yet to say anything, though he appeared distinctly uncomfortable.
“That will be a pleasant change,” Marion commented with a bright, though forced smile.
“What shall I do for the wedding?”
“Why, nothing.” Laurie’s answering smile was equally bright and equally forced. “It’s all taken care of. Just bring your smiling faces.”
“Okay,” Marion agreed. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes then faded.
Laurie frowned then turned her head and offered Damien a sympathetic smile. He had as strained a relationship with his mother as she had with hers. She reluctantly left his lap to sit in the other recliner near the floor console television.
“Crawford, Crawford,” Marion muttered to herself but ostensibly loud enough for everyone to hear. Then she snapped her fingers as though suddenly making a mental connection and fixed an accusing glare on Laurie.
“Are you related to Nathaniel Crawford—the traitor in the news?” she demanded harshly with a quick cool glance at her son.
Laurie choked on her coffee. Speechless, she sent Damien a shocked glance then dropped her gaze to the floor. Shame mingled with anger and it took all her strength not to flee the room.
Instead, she sat rigid on the edge of the chair, the mug clamped in her trembling hands, and refused to answer. Her father’s crimes had nothing to do with her.
“That is enough, Mother.” Damien stood up. That cold tone brooked no argument. “You are not interrogating a prisoner. Laurie is my fiancée.”
“I simply asked a natural question, Damien,” Marion protested, returning her son’s icy stare.
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“Drop it,” he growled the warning. He tensed for an argument, a subtle change in demeanor that only Laurie noticed. Wisely, Marion heeded the warning.
“We need to get back,” Marion stated and stood. In minutes, they were gone.
In the front yard, Laurie stared after their car and leaned into Damien’s embrace, still reeling from the unexpected visit. The admittedly short scene ran through her mind. It had barely lasted twenty minutes, yet she felt as though she had been interrogated for hours.
She looked up at Damien with a confused frown. “What just happened here?”
“My mother trying to interfere in my life again.” Damien let out an exasperated sigh as he escorted her back into the house.
Laurie uttered a derisive chuckle. “Maybe we should elope. With our disapproving families, we could avoid a major expense.”
Damien kicked the door closed firmly behind him then stopped and turned her into his arms. He put a finger under her chin, urging her to meet his gaze. She peered into his eyes, so steady and direct on hers.