Читать книгу Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded - Kate Hardy - Страница 15

ISOBEL slept really badly that night. Odd how she’d grown used to sleeping with someone again. The bed felt way too wide without Alex curled round her body, his arm wrapped round her waist and holding her close to him.

Every time she glanced at the clock, only a few minutes seemed to have gone past.

She’d just drifted into sleep when the phone shrilled.

Groggily, she reached out and felt for the phone, picked it up, and dropped it back on the cradle again.

The phone shrilled again.

This time she answered—more of a mumbled noise than an actual word, though she put the receiver to her ear.

‘Rise and shine, honey. We’re getting married in two and a half hours.’

‘Alex? But …’

‘It’s not unlucky to talk to your bridegroom on the wedding morning, before you say it.’ He laughed. ‘Tomorrow, you can sleep in as late as you like.’ His voice went husky. ‘Because you might be a little bit busy tonight.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘Later,’ he promised. ‘Later I’ll carry you over the threshold. And there’s going to be some serious ravishing in the bridal bed. But for now … go have your shower. Because I think you have visitors due in twenty-five minutes.’

She glanced at the clock. ‘They’ll be up already?’

‘Their hotel is all of ten minutes’ walk away, two minutes by taxi, and Saskia told me yesterday they’re getting changed in your room—so I’d say the odds are they’re already up or they’ve just hit the snooze button and they’ll be up in five minutes. I’ll see you at eight-thirty.’

‘Eight-thirty,’ she promised.

A shower and washing her hair made her feel a lot more awake. She’d just wrapped her hair in a towel and herself in the thick towelling robe provided by the hotel when there was a knock on her door. She opened it and Marcia, Anna and Saskia were all there, beaming at her and carrying an assortment of bags and cases.

‘This is the plan. The mums sort the clothes and order breakfast by room service, I do your hair and make-up, and you’re going to be the most beautiful bride ever,’ Saskia informed her.

‘Room service?’ Isobel asked.

‘Coffee and pastries. It’s our family tradition to have cake for breakfast on red letter days,’ Saskia said, smiling.

‘In your dreams, you bad child.’ Marcia laughed. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. My daughter’s a bad influence.’

‘I hate to tell you this, but cake for breakfast sounds good to me as well,’ Anna said, laughing back.

‘Pain au chocolat and Danish pastries. Oh, and some orange juice so we can claim we’ve been healthy,’ Saskia directed.

‘Champagne and orange juice?’ Anna suggested.

‘Mmm, but we don’t want her tipsy in case she falls into the—’ Saskia clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘I could always tell Alex you told me anyway,’ Isobel suggested.

Saskia cuffed her. ‘Behave, or I’ll accidentally on purpose stab you with a hair pin.’

Isobel didn’t have a chance to start worrying about the wedding. What with a breakfast of pastries and Buck’s Fizz, then the flowers arriving—a simple bouquet of cream Calla lilies that matched her cream silk shift dress perfectly—and her hair, nails and make-up being done, and everyone else getting changed, there wasn’t a spare moment.

‘Right. Time to get you dressed. Something old—and borrowed.’ Anna handed her the bracelet.

‘Thanks, Mum.’

‘Something new—that’s the dress. But before you do, the something blue.’ Saskia fished in her bag and handed Isobel a box.

‘A blue garter.’

‘We won’t make you flash your legs. Well, Alex might,’ Saskia said with a grin.

‘And we’ll spare you the sixpence in your shoe—that’d be way too uncomfortable,’ Marcia chipped in.

Saskia helped her into the dress and the gloves.

‘And I need these.’ Isobel took her pearls from the box.

‘Oh, Bel—they’re gorgeous,’ Marcia sighed.

‘Alex gave them to me as a wedding present,’ she said shyly.

‘They go perfectly with your dress,’ Anna said. She brought out the organza stole and draped it round Isobel’s shoulders. ‘Oh, love. You look like a princess.’

Marcia took her camera from her handbag. ‘Hold your flowers, Bel. That’s it. Now smile.’

‘You look …’ Saskia blinked back tears. ‘Oh, Bel. Today, you’re really going to be my sister.’

‘You used to tell your school friends that she was your twin, like Helen and Polly are twins,’ Marcia said.

Anna’s eyes were glittering with tears. ‘The sister I never managed to give you, Bel.’

Isobel stared at her mother in surprise. It was something they’d never talked about, and as she’d grown up she’d simply assumed that because her parents were older, she’d been a ‘happy accident’ late in life rather than a planned baby.

So did this mean her mother had wanted more children? Or even that she’d had trouble conceiving—had had miscarriages, the same way that Isobel herself had? ‘Mum …’

Anna shook her head. ‘This isn’t the time and the place to talk about it. But just as long as you know how much your father and I love you. How proud we are of you. And how happy we are that you and Alex are together.’

Isobel swallowed hard. ‘I think I’m going to cry.’

‘Don’t you dare. You’ll smudge your make-up. And Alex will scalp us if we deliver his bride in anything less than smile mode,’ Saskia said quickly.

The phone rang; Marcia answered, then nodded. ‘Thank you.’ As the others turned to her in enquiry she said, ‘That was the wedding car.’

‘Wedding car? So where exactly are we going?’ Isobel asked.

‘It’s more than our lives are worth to tell you,’ Marcia said. ‘But everyone else is meeting us there.’

Alex had hired an old-fashioned Rolls-Royce. And when the car pulled up outside Bath Abbey, Isobel shook her head. ‘No. This can’t be right. No way can he have booked the Abbey. They wouldn’t marry us, not when I’m divorced.’

‘It’s not the Abbey,’ Anna said gently, squeezing her hand. ‘You’ll love this.’

‘Then where …’

Enlightenment dawned when they reached the entrance to the old Roman baths. ‘I don’t believe he managed to organise this.’

‘They’re open to the public during the day, so the only time you can get married here is half past eight in the morning,’ Saskia explained. ‘Which is how come you had to be up at the crack of dawn.’

‘I … Oh, Lord.’ Isobel was lost for words.

‘Smile,’ Saskia directed, ‘or my brother will scalp me.’

‘We could’ve walked here, but Alex wanted to string it out to the last possible second,’ Marcia said. She laughed. ‘You know my son. He always takes things further than anyone else.’

‘You can say that again,’ Isobel said fervently.

The torches around the great pool were lit and the steam was rising. The water was pure aqua—the same colour as the bowl her colleagues had bought them. And that, Isobel thought, was probably no coincidence.

And then she saw Alex.

She’d known he was teasing her when he’d threatened to wear his battered Akubra or a toga. But she really hadn’t expected this. He was wearing a morning suit: a black tailcoat and pinstriped trousers with a white wing-collar shirt and a gold waistcoat. And his cravat matched her stole exactly. The rest of the wedding party were dressed in similar style, and they all had a lily as their buttonhole.

For a moment, she could believe that she and Alex really were getting married for love. He looked absolutely stunning and, when he walked towards her, smiling, her heart felt as if it had done a weird kind of flip.

‘That dress is perfect. Simple and classic and letting your beauty shine through. The gloves are pretty sexy, too. You look amazing,’ he said softly.

‘You look pretty stunning yourself.’

He smiled. ‘Note—no toga, and no hat.’

She indicated her stole. ‘And I’ve got the flame-coloured veil you asked for. Sort of.’

He laughed. ‘I like it. And I like your hair up like that.’ He leaned forward and whispered, ‘And I’m really looking forward to taking it down later tonight.’

A shiver of pure desire rippled through her. ‘Later.’ She glanced round at the registrar and their family, sitting there with such love and such joy on their faces.

And Alex had been the one to make this all happen.

‘Thank you, Alex, for doing this. It’s just …’ She could feel tears welling up.

He looked alarmed. ‘Don’t cry, Bel.’

‘They’re happy tears,’ she hastened to reassure him.

‘Even so.’ He took her hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed it. ‘Let’s go and get married.’

‘I can’t believe we’re getting married on a two-thousand-year-old warm pavement.’

He smiled. ‘I told you it was going to be different.’

‘It’s perfect, Alex.’

She walked with him over to the table where the registrar was sitting; Alex held her hand very, very tightly as the registrar welcomed them all.

‘I declare I know of no legal reason why I, Alexander Tobias Richardson, may not be joined in marriage to Isobel Anna Martin,’ Alex said at the registrar’s prompting.

She repeated his declaration.

Then he turned to her. Held both hands. Looked her straight in the eye. ‘I, Alexander, take you, Isobel, to be my lawful wedded wife.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I, Isobel, take you, Alexander, to be my lawful wedded husband.’

Then Saskia came to the front, carrying Flora, who was holding a basket containing the wedding rings.

Alex took the smaller one and slid it onto her finger. ‘With my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring I marry you and join my life to yours.’

And even though he didn’t mention love in his vows, she knew he meant what he said.

Just as she meant it when she took the other ring and slid it onto his ring finger. ‘With my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring I marry you and join my life to yours.’

She barely heard the registrar’s speech; the only thing that she could focus on was Alex’s wide smile when the registrar said, ‘You may kiss the bride.’

He did.

When they’d signed the register, it was time for photographs. Then they went back to the hotel, where there were more photographs in the garden and Alex’s nephews took great delight in throwing rose petals over them—and then brunch, which Alex had arranged in a private dining room.

‘So where are the speeches?’ Polly asked.

‘We’re not doing any. We’re together, we’re married, we’re happy. End of story.’ Alex gestured to his nephews, who were busily playing with the train set he’d had put in the room earlier. ‘And the kids won’t want to sit through long speeches.’

‘They won’t mind. They’re quite happy playing, thanks to their genius uncle,’ Helen said.

Alex laughed. ‘I can remember sitting through weddings at their age and being bored out of my mind. I thought they’d like something a bit more interesting to do.’

‘They love it,’ Poppy confirmed.

‘Come on. Don’t cheat us,’ Helen wheedled. ‘Speech.’

‘No need.’ Alex gave her his most charming smile. ‘As I said. We’re together, we’re married, we’re happy. Everyone knows how we met—and everyone knows everything about both of us. So there’s nothing more to say.’

‘Actually, as the father of the bride, I’d like to say something,’ Stuart said diffidently. ‘I found this lovely blessing on the internet. I’m sorry it’s not Roman—it’s Apache—but I thought the words were lovely.’

‘Go on, Dad,’ Isobel said.

Stuart stood up, took a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, and unfolded it. With a tender look at Isobel, he said:

‘May the sun bring you new happiness by day;

May the moon softly restore you by night;

May the rain wash away your worries

And the breeze blow new strength into your being,

And all the days of your life

May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty.

Now you will feel no rain,

For each of you will be the shelter for each other.

Now you will feel no cold,

For each of you will be the warmth for the other.

Now you are two persons,

But there is only one life before.

Go now to your dwelling place to enter

Into the days of your life together.

And may your days be good and long upon the earth’

Everyone clapped loudly.

‘Hear, hear,’ Marcia said. ‘Stuart, that’s so lovely.’

Isobel had a lump in her throat. She glanced at Alex, who tightened his fingers round hers.

‘Thank you, Stuart,’ Alex said.

Even his eyes were smiling, Isobel thought. As if he’d married her for real.

Well, it was legally real. Just not the great love match everyone believed it was.

Tom stood up, next. ‘I’m more of a figures man than a words man,’ he said ruefully, ‘so I can’t come up with anything anywhere near as pretty as Stuart. So I’m going just to keep it short and sweet. Welcome to the family, Bel—though we’ve thought of you as part of our family for years anyway, we’re so pleased that you’re officially ours now. And may you both be very happy. I’d like everyone to join me in raising their glasses in a toast. Bel and Alex.’

‘Bel and Alex,’ everyone echoed, raising their glasses of champagne.

In response, Alex kissed Isobel. Very, very thoroughly.