Читать книгу Welcome to Mills & Boon - Jennifer Rae - Страница 25
ОглавлениеIT WAS HARD not to be a little bitter. Helena had spent weeks choosing the perfect menu for this dinner, along with Isabella and the wedding planner and even Thea when she’d had time. They’d tasted and sampled all kinds of dishes, weighed up the pros and cons of a fish course against a sorbet between courses, and debated the merits of local versus imported cheeses for hours. And now, here she was, sitting right in the middle of the top table—and she’d barely tasted a mouthful of any of the plates put in front of her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to eat. She was starving, as it happened. But the very efficiently tied corset laces were starting to make breathing a bit more of an issue than she’d like, and she didn’t want to strain them any more than she had to.
She stared longingly at the dessert in front of her and resigned herself to just a small taste. And to staying away from the champagne. Bubbles always went straight to her head, and on an empty stomach they’d be disastrous. Especially today. Today, she needed all of her faculties about her.
‘Are you okay? You’re looking kind of...pink,’ Flynn asked, leaning in. Helena supposed to the crowds of guests it looked as if he was murmuring sweet nothings in his bride’s ear. Not asking her why her complexion had coloured to match her shoes.
‘It’s the corset. It was okay standing up but now it’s kind of...binding.’ Which it was supposed to be, really. It was just that Helena was so very fond of oxygen. And dessert.
Flynn didn’t answer immediately. Helena glanced up to see his cheeks approaching shoe colour, too. ‘I’m sorry. Do you want me to...?’ He trailed off, waving a hand behind her back.
Helena shook her head. ‘Too late now. It’ll be fine. I just need to make it through the speeches then I’ll escape and find a maid or someone to adjust it.’
‘Just don’t let any of the guests see you.’ Flynn flashed her a quick grin. ‘You’ll have the rumour mill announcing you’re pregnant in no time.’
Pregnant. Of course. Because she was married now. And that was what married women did, wasn’t it? Gave their husbands babies.
Isabella probably wouldn’t even cry and send her away this time.
This time, it wouldn’t be a scandal, a shameful thing. It would be wanted, loved. Kept.
And the fact it might break her heart again still wouldn’t matter.
A waiter reached in to clear her barely touched plate and Helena murmured a thank you, more grateful for the interruption to her thoughts than the service.
‘Time for the speeches next,’ she said, visualising the timetable for the day as she’d seen it on the wedding planner’s clipboard.
‘And your dad’s up first. At least he always makes a good speech.’
Helena stared at him in disbelief, but Flynn appeared utterly unaware of what he’d said. ‘A good speech?’
‘Well, yeah.’ Flynn shrugged. ‘Doesn’t he? I mean, he does all those charity event speaker things, and he always talks well to the board. And I thought he did pretty well last night, at the rehearsal dinner.’
Helena shook her head. ‘No wonder Thea slept with Zeke,’ she muttered. After listening to their father’s speech about her the night before—including, amongst other things, a line about how glad he was that, by agreeing to marry Flynn, Thea had finally made a decision in her personal life as good as the ones she made in business—even Helena had been ready to flee the room. And Flynn hadn’t even noticed that his fiancée might have been a bit upset.
She wondered what little gems Dad would have in store for her. Assuming that he’d taken the time to rewrite it from his original speech, as planned for Thea. He might not. They seemed fairly interchangeable to him today—neither one of his daughters living up to what he wanted or expected from them.
She didn’t have to wait long to find out. The moment the last of the plates were cleared, Thomas Morrison was on his feet, carefully clinking the silverware against a champagne flute.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, welcome—welcome to you all!’ Thomas smiled broadly around at the assembled company, and Helena wondered exactly how much of the champagne he’d had that afternoon.
‘On this very special day, I’d like to thank you all for travelling to be with us, not just on my own behalf, but on behalf of my dear old friends, Ezekiel and Isabella, too. I know that they feel, as I do, that this day would not have been so magical without all of you here to share it.’
Pause for applause. Flynn did have a point, although she’d never admit as much. Her father knew how to play a crowd.
It was just a shame he didn’t know how to make his own daughters feel as special.
‘This day, this joining of our two families, has been long coming, and long desired. Not just for the obvious reasons of business—although I know several of you very pleased to see your stocks and shares safe for another generation!’ Laughter, mostly from a table of middle-aged men in pinstriped suits with much younger wives towards the back of the room. ‘No, I have far greater reasons for wanting to see our families irrevocably linked.’
Helena swallowed at the word irrevocably, and felt Flynn flinch beside her. Was he thinking about how to get out of this marriage, like she was? Or was he plotting how to keep her in it?
‘Helena, my Helena, has always been my golden child. My baby girl. And to see her safe and secure with a man such as Flynn, a man I already trusted with my company, is quite frankly a joy!’
If her cheeks had been pink from oxygen deprivation before, then they had to be bright red and clashing with her shoes by now. As she stared at her full champagne glass, watching the bubbles rise and pop, Flynn sneaked his hand into hers and she squeezed gratefully.
‘Flynn—’ Thomas turned to address his new son-in-law directly ‘—you have been given a precious gift today. I expect you to take very good care of it.’
‘I will, sir.’ Flynn’s voice was sure and certain, and the whole room burst into applause again at the sound of it.
‘Okay, maybe he’s not dreadful at speeches,’ Helena murmured to Flynn but, even as she said it, Thomas launched into a long, overdone thank you speech to Isabella for all she’d done in helping to raise her and organise the day. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Wait until you hear mine,’ Flynn teased. But Helena tensed at the very idea. What on earth was he going to say? Hi, guys, I know you came to see me marry that other girl but, hey, change of plan and, under the circumstances, this was the best I could do. More champagne, anyone?
‘This you’re worried about?’ Flynn asked, his voice low but amazed. ‘Marrying a guy you never even considered as a possible date on no notice in someone else’s wedding dress, fine. But the thought of me making a speech makes you tense up? You don’t need the corset, your shoulders are so rigid.’
‘Not the thought of you making a speech. The thought of you adapting a speech about Thea to suit me on the spot. The fact that everyone here will know you’re actually talking about another woman.’
Flynn didn’t reply immediately, and when Helena looked up his expression was thoughtful. ‘Just wait and listen,’ he said finally, just as Thomas asked the room to be upstanding for the bride and groom.
‘To Flynn and Helena!’ She supposed she should just be glad that most people managed to get her name right.
Flynn got to his feet as everyone else sat down, and Helena gave up worrying about the tightness of her corset laces. It wasn’t as if she could breathe while this was going on anyway.
‘It’s traditional, I know, for the groom to toast the bridesmaids,’ he started.
Helena winced instinctively. That’s right—draw attention to exactly what’s untraditional about this wedding.
‘But, as you might have noticed, my wife and I don’t actually have any today.’
A nervous laugh, and not even the usual cheer at the use of ‘my wife and I’. Yeah, this was going to go brilliantly.
‘A lot of things about today’s wedding might not have been exactly as people were expecting. But, in fact, everything is just as it should be.’
He smiled down at her and something in Helena’s chest loosened, for the first time that day.
‘All along, we knew we wanted to join our families together, to go into the future as a pair, a team. We wanted to secure our future, and our future happiness. But you can’t make a plan for love; you can’t schedule romance and desire. You can’t outsmart Cupid, as Helena and I learned.’
It was all true, Helena realised. Everything he was saying accurately described Thea and Zeke’s discoveries and disappointments of the last couple of days. But the way he said it, the way he smiled lovingly at her as he spoke...it was as if he were telling a different story altogether.
Their story.
‘Duty is one thing; family duty something altogether heavier. But true love...well, true love trumps them all.’ Women were ‘aahing’ around the tables, and Helena thought she might even have seen one of the middle-aged men in the pinstriped suits wipe at his eyes. How was Flynn doing this?
‘I truly believe that our wedding today is just the first stop on a journey of a lifetime. With Helena, I feel like I have come home at last. Together we, and our families, have a wonderful future ahead of us. And I couldn’t be prouder to have my wife by my side as we venture into it.’
Flynn tugged her up to stand beside him, one arm wrapped around her waist, and raised his glass. ‘To Helena,’ he said, and the room echoed with the repeats.
And just for a moment, standing there in her sister’s too tight wedding dress with the wrong shoes pinching her feet, Helena could see the future Thea had planned for herself. A future of acceptance and appreciation, having a man beside her who always managed to say the right thing at the right time.
It almost seemed like the fairy tale it was supposed to be. For a moment, anyway. Until her guests started calling for something more.
‘Kiss her!’ Mr Teary-Pinstripes called. ‘Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!’ The rest of his table picked up the chant. Then the rest of the room.
Suddenly, Helena almost wished the corset was tight enough to make her faint.
Imagining a fairy tale future wasn’t the same as kissing the prince. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They’d managed to avoid it in the church, where at least it would have been expected to be a chaste and swift kiss. Here, now, after all the wine and the toasts...these people wanted the real thing, and anything less was only going to start up rumours again.
She couldn’t let that happen. Not after Flynn’s speech had tidied away all the talk so neatly.
If they wanted a kiss, she was going to have to give it to them.
She turned to Flynn, eyebrows raised, and he echoed the gesture. ‘I never thought my first kiss with my husband would be quite so public,’ she murmured, quiet enough that she knew it wouldn’t be heard over the chanting.
‘It’s just for show.’ He flashed her a quick smile.
Just a show. Of course. They weren’t really in love, whatever Flynn had suggested in his speech. This marriage was only temporary, just until they could sort everything out. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. Not when she couldn’t give Flynn what he wanted most.
None of which explained why there seemed to be too much blood in her veins, or why she couldn’t look away from Flynn’s caramel-brown eyes as he smiled down at her.
Helena’s heart raced as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, the chanting turning to cheering around them.
It’s just for show. The words spun in her head, but all Helena could think as Flynn bent in to kiss her was: If this is just a show, how am I going to survive the real thing?
* * *
Just a show. That was the key.
Except it wasn’t.
Yes, the only reason his first kiss with his wife was taking place in front of a captive audience was to prove a point—to show them that Helena wasn’t some sort of poor consolation prize. But that wasn’t enough. He had to show Helena that too.
And Helena knew the truth.
If he wanted her to stick with this—to believe they had a real future together—well, that future had to start right now. With their first kiss.
‘Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!’ The chanting around them faded into nothing as he leant in closer, his eyes closing as his lips brushed against hers, softly at first, not wanting to spook her. But then, oh, then... Flynn’s fingers clutched at her hip, the silk of her dress slipping against his skin as he deepened the kiss.
She tasted like champagne and gold, expensive and sparkling, her mouth warm and willing under his. He’d wanted to prove a point with this kiss but, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was. All he could think about was how soft her body was against his, how perfectly it fitted to him.
He opened his eyes, wanting to drink in the sight of her too, wanting to see her reaction, to know if she was as affected as him. But Helena’s eyes were closed and, along with his vision, his hearing seemed to return too—or at least his awareness of it.
The chanting had turned to cheering—when, Flynn didn’t know. But he was suddenly aware that he was making a spectacle of himself—and Helena—by falling so completely into what was supposed to be a simple kiss. Just a moment to appease the crowd, and a promise of what could follow later.
If their first kiss had knocked him senseless, what would their second do to him? Never mind their third and fourth...
Reluctantly, Flynn loosened his hold on his wife and pulled back, just enough to signal to Helena that the kiss was over. Her eyelids fluttered open and Flynn was gratified to see misty confusion in her bluebell bright eyes, too. At least he wasn’t the only one losing his mind over a kiss.
‘Well,’ Isabella said in a low voice as they pulled apart, ‘at least no one here is left in any doubt that you both got what you wanted out of this arrangement.’ Flynn couldn’t tell if his mother disapproved of that or not. It was often hard to tell with Isabella. He found it easiest to assume that she did disapprove, most of the time.
Not that it made any difference now. He was married to Helena and there was nothing anyone could do about that.
The cheering had turned to chatter and laughter now, after a smattering of applause. Helena’s cheeks were pink as she sat down, and Flynn flattered himself that the blush had less to do with her corset than it had.
‘Nearly there now,’ he murmured to her, reaching to take her hand. She let him hold it long enough for a reassuring squeeze then tugged it away again, giving him a polite, but non-committal, smile.
Flynn frowned. What had changed? She’d been right there with him in that kiss, he could tell. So why the cool distance now?
As the guests finished their coffees and headed through to the adjoining room, where a bar had been set up for them while the band set up on the terrace, Flynn studied his bride as she sipped tea, and considered.
Helena had been instrumental in the wedding planning, but she hadn’t been part of the prenuptial contract discussions. But she was Thea’s sister. They’d have talked about the terms of the agreement, surely? Which meant that Helena probably knew that marital relations hadn’t been contractually required for the first couple of years. Thea had wanted time to settle into married life, and to continue to build up her career, before they started a family. And, since they weren’t in love, or even in lust, sex wasn’t really necessary until then. At least, on paper.
There was a firm fidelity clause, though. And Thea had changed her mind, just two nights ago, about what she wanted from the marriage in physical terms. She’d wanted them to get to know each other as man and wife, and have that time together first before kids.
Although how much that decision had to do with her trying to hide her feelings for his brother, Flynn suspected he was better off not knowing.
Still, maybe she hadn’t discussed that change of plans with Helena. And, even if she had, there was no contract between Helena and him. No carefully debated and worded agreement, no consensus of opinion. Just confusion, lack of clarity and the potential for miscommunication.
This was why the world needed paperwork.
He’d have to talk to her, discuss the situation and what they wanted to happen next. It was useful to have a good idea of their individual needs before they got the solicitors involved, or at least that was what he’d found with her sister.
But that would have to wait until he got her alone. And with two hundred wedding guests still watching them closely—either waiting for another kiss or some sign of what really went down that morning—Flynn didn’t see that happening very soon.
A smile crept on to his face as a thought occurred to him. There was one chance for them to be almost alone, if still observed, very soon indeed.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Helena asked from beside him.
‘I’m just looking forward to our first dance,’ he answered honestly.
‘Well, it can’t be any more of a spectacle than our first kiss.’ Helena covered her eyes for a moment, obviously embarrassed.
‘Don’t knock the kiss,’ Flynn said, leaning back in his chair. ‘I think that kiss might set the tone for our whole marriage.’
Helena’s gaze flashed up to his face, uncertainty in her eyes. Flynn tried to give her a reassuring look. She’d feel better once they’d agreed terms. And he’d feel better once he knew she was in this for the long haul. He could persuade her that sticking with the marriage was better for everybody, he was sure.
Even if he had to kiss her a hundred more times to convince her.
* * *
‘And now, please welcome Mr and Mrs Flynn Ashton on to the floor for their first dance!’
Helena thought her face might crack from all the smiling. Still, she tried to keep up the ecstatically happy bride act as she took Flynn’s hand and stepped out into the middle of the ballroom. How had Isabella even managed to find a villa with a ballroom? The woman had to have ridiculous magical abilities or something.
Helena just hoped she’d use her powers for good.
‘You okay?’ Flynn asked as the band struck up the first notes of the first dance. It Had to Be You. Thea had picked it after glancing over the band’s set list, and Helena still wasn’t sure if she’d meant it as a joke. Except Thea wasn’t stuck dancing to it for the next three and a half minutes or whatever. Helena was.
‘I’m fine.’ She smiled up at her husband and hoped he wouldn’t notice she was lying. She was a long way from fine.
It was the kiss that had started it. The kiss that had left her knees weak and her brain foggy. Followed by all the sincere congratulations that no one had offered before Flynn’s speech and a roomful of strangers telling her how this must be the happiest day of her life.
Helena was pretty sure it would go down forever as the most bizarre and confusing. But happiest? That really wasn’t the right word for it.
Flynn led her around the dance floor without her even having to think about where her feet went next, as if he had a diagram in his head that he just had to follow and everything would be graceful and perfect. Which, actually, knowing Flynn, he probably did.
‘So,’ he said as the singer launched into the second verse, ‘I think we made it through the day without disaster.’
‘I guess we did.’ After the dancing, all that was left was the sending off. Except she and Flynn weren’t going anywhere except upstairs to bed.
Bed.
Oh.
Where were they going to sleep? The bridal suite Thea had been using, which would have been set up for a romantic wedding night while they were all down at the chapel? Or the smaller room Helena had taken as her own? Or even Flynn’s room at the far end of the villa?
And, more importantly, was Flynn expecting that they’d be going to bed together?
‘About that,’ she said, stumbling a little as her shoe got stuck in the too-long hem of her dress. Flynn caught her, strong hands keeping her upright and even still dancing as she found her balance. ‘I mean, about making it through the day. And to the night. Um...’
Flynn gave a low chuckle that somehow sounded dirtier than she’d ever imagined he was capable of. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone is going to be sober enough to notice where either of us sleep tonight. Why don’t you take the bridal suite, just in case anyone checks, and I’ll stick with my room? I’ll have work to do in the morning anyway, and my laptop and files are all set up in there.’
Of course. Work.
Just when she was starting to think that Flynn was a little more enthusiastic about this wedding than she’d expected. But no, it was all just the show, the spectacle, still.
Except that kiss hadn’t felt like a show. It had definitely been a spectacle, but it had felt...real. Tingly.
But she wasn’t supposed to be getting tingly feelings about this man. Her husband. Stupid as it seemed. She needed to keep this business-like and official until they could sit down and agree a way to get out of it. As she’d told him that morning, this didn’t have to be forever.
Couldn’t be forever.
If she didn’t end this early enough, she’d have to tell him everything, sooner or later. Explain why she couldn’t give him all the things he wanted. Had Isabella already realised? Was that why she’d looked so frustrated all day, whenever no one important had been looking?
The band launched into a repeat of the last verse, and Flynn spun her round with a little more enthusiasm. Not enough to be called abandon, of course. And probably planned ahead of time. But the crowd cheered anyway, and Helena tried to improve her mood with the knowledge that this was nearly all over. Another hour or so and they’d serve the cake and light supper buffet, even though no one could possibly be hungry again after the dinner they’d just eaten—except her. And she still couldn’t eat because of the ridiculous corset.
Maybe she could smuggle a doggy bag upstairs under her skirts...
The band came to a triumphant finish and Flynn dipped her low over his arm. Helena’s heel slid against the wooden floor for a second, then held. Heart racing, she looked up into her husband’s eyes and realised her heart wasn’t going to slow down any time soon.
Polite applause echoed in her ears as Flynn’s smile—a slow private one she wasn’t used to—spread across his face and she realised that she was still half upside down with her hair threatening to break free from its pins.
Deliberately, he raised her up to standing again, but his arm tight around her waist kept her upright. Her mind spun—from the dance, from the dip, but mostly from the realisation that she’d thought Flynn was about to kiss her again. Had expected it, almost as her due.
Had wanted it.
And that was dangerous.
With a tight smile, she shuffled back out of his arms. Flynn let her go easily and she tried to stamp down the small swell of disappointment she felt at that.
‘I think my father has the next dance,’ she said as the band struck up the next tune.
‘Of course,’ Flynn replied, still smiling. ‘And who are we to mess with tradition?’
‘Who, indeed?’ Helena twirled away, hitching her dress up a little to avoid tripping, and went to find her father. He might not always be her favourite person but he was a great deal safer to be around than her husband right now.
* * *
Several hours and considerably more dances later, the evening finally approached its end. Helena had thought about staging a grand departure earlier, but realised that would leave her alone in the bridal suite with her husband and two hundred people downstairs listening for signs of the marriage being consummated.
So not happening.
But at midnight the coaches and cars arrived like carriages on the driveway and the staff efficiently and discreetly persuaded everyone out of the door. Most were staying at hotels down in the town where there would be bars they could abuse all they wanted. But not here.
A few close family and friends of Isabella’s were staying at the villa, but Helena was optimistic they could avoid them tonight. The bridal suite was at one far end of a wing, with her own bedroom, her father’s and Isabella and Ezekiel’s suite between it and the rest of the villa. Zeke and Flynn had been roomed at the other end of the building but maybe she could persuade Flynn to take her old room. She could get someone to move his work stuff over now, while no one was looking. It would be much easier to keep up the illusion that they were actually sharing the bridal suite that way.
Helena smiled a gracious goodbye at a passing flurry of guests, then moved away to explain her plan to Flynn—only to see him exiting the room behind her father and his. Where were they all going?
Frowning, she made to follow and find out, but stopped when a hand slipped through the crook of her arm. To the departing guests, it probably looked like a motherly gesture from her new mother-in-law, but Helena knew differently. Isabella had a grip of steel and if she didn’t want Helena going after Flynn she didn’t stand a chance of making it.
‘Where are the menfolk off to?’ Helena asked in what she hoped was an unconcerned tone.
‘I believe that Ezekiel and Thomas had some details to hammer out with Flynn, after today’s...occurrences.’ Helena had never heard a wedding sound so inconvenient.
‘Details? What sort of details?’
Isabella waved the hand that wasn’t gripping Helena’s arm as if to say it was nothing for Helena to worry her pretty little head about. Except Helena did worry. Would worry. Was currently worrying. Pretty much in every tense—especially since she knew beyond any doubt that the three men would be talking about her.
No, not just talking about her. Planning her life. Without any input from her.
‘Just little things, I’m sure,’ Isabella said lightly. ‘Probably what adjustments need to be made to the original marriage contract, for one.’
Yeah, because that wasn’t a big thing at all.
‘Don’t you think I should be in there for that?’ Helena asked.
Isabella gave her a disparaging look. ‘I can’t imagine it would make much of a difference.’ Which was, depressingly, very true. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t like the opportunity to say her part.
The door had closed behind the men and Helena knew any chance she had of gate-crashing their summit meeting had passed. All she could do now was wait to see what they decided about her future.
And then choose whether or not she was willing to go along with it.
She allowed herself a small secret smile. They could plan all they wanted, but they weren’t in charge of her life. Flynn might be her husband, but he didn’t own her. And she hadn’t signed any paperwork promising him anything.
Her future was her own and she wouldn’t let the men in her life tell her what to do with it.
‘I’m going to go up to the bridal suite,’ she told Isabella in a sweet, not-causing-any-trouble-here tone. ‘It is my wedding night, after all.’
‘Of course.’ Isabella loosened her hold on Helena’s arm, studying her face. Helena kept her expression bland. ‘I’m sure Flynn won’t keep you waiting too long.’
Only until tomorrow morning, given the conversation they’d had while they danced. But her mother-in-law didn’t need to know that. ‘Well, I’d better go and get ready for him, then.’ With a smile, she turned to leave the room, planning to snag a maid to move Flynn’s things on her way.
‘Helena.’ She turned back at Isabella’s call. Flynn’s mother had a small crease between her eyebrows, as if she were still trying to make sense of everything that had happened that day. Maybe she was. God knew it didn’t make any sense to Helena yet, and most of it had been her idea. ‘I just wanted to say...maybe things have worked out for the best, after all. Maybe this can be a fresh start for you and Flynn. For you, especially.’
Helena’s polite smile tightened until her cheeks ached. ‘I hope so,’ she said, not even sure if she was lying or not. ‘It’s about time I was given a second chance around here.’
And, with that, she turned and swept out of the ballroom, leaving her wedding day behind her.
It was time for the wedding night.
