Chapter 3
“W hy haven’t you said anything?” Annie crossed her arms, staring at her parents, who emerged from the chapel.
Her loud, angry voice made a few heads turn. Annie’s father smiled at the crowd and laughed. Her mother joined, and they both cackled like she made the best joke ever.
“Darling, it’s fine.” Her father, Richard, in a stripy brown suit, put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward the stairs leading down to the park. Her mother, holding her hat down, wrapped her arm around Annie’s other arm, and they whisked her away from the guests loitering near the chapel entrance.
Digging her heels into the uneven stone made no difference in slowing their descent, but as Annie wobbled on the stilettos, only the parental hands gripping her arms stopped her from tumbling down.
“I know you recognised me. I could see your face, Mother.”
Her father patted Annie on the hand he was holding. “You seem flushed, honey.” He looked back at the guests, who took that as a sign to follow. “Let’s get you to an open space, or you might faint.”
“I never—” Annie’s voice turned into a high-pitched shriek when her left foot twisted under her, and she shot forward.
“Steady.” Her mother, Maureen, shouted, trotting after Annie like in those comedy movies where everything happens at double speed. If Annie were the one watching the scene, it would make her cry from laughter, not horror.
Two steps later, they landed at the bottom without losing their limbs. Annie took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart and pushing down the contents of her stomach that threatened to escape.
Gusts of wind tormenting her hair lifted all the hairpins, and the veil floated into the air, then flitted toward the trees. A little girl with angelic hair giggled and sprinted after it; the girl’s parents, whom Annie did not know, wobbled after her, their hands extended like they wanted to catch their daughter before she flew away with the veil.
“Now we can talk.” Her father pinned Annie down with his fake smile glued on his cleanly shaved, double-chinned face.
“Talk?” Annie yanked her arms away and rubbed the red marks left by their gripping fingers. “There is nothing to talk about. We need to end this farce.” She looked straight into that round smiley face. “Now.”
“Slow down, darling. There is no need to rush.”
Annie’s father raised his manicured hand to his mouth as if sharing a secret.
“This can work for us even better. That sister of yours has brains.”
A rare compliment in her father’s mouth, considering he’d always seen Louise as someone merely drifting through life.
“Work for you . There is no us in all that. And don’t you dare bring Louise into this! You sold her like an animal to that bastard. He’s seventeen years older than her and clearly up to no good from what I could see.”
Annie stepped closer to her father, invading his space. “You hear me. Seventeen years. She could have been his daughter.”
“Stop being dramatic.” Her mother cut into the conversation. “It wasn’t supposed to last, anyway.”
“Oh, really?” Annie raised her eyebrows and turned toward her mother, who was brushing off a speck from her polka-dot dress. “And what happened to what’s been joined by the God should never be pulled apart by a human, Mother?”
Maureen smirked. “It was the only chance for that girl to have a proper church wedding.” She put her hands together for a prayer, raising her head toward the skies. “God forgive me for wanting a good thing for my daughter in her condition.”
“Her condition?” Annie chuckled. “She’s gay. It’s not an illness, Mother.”
Maureen placed her hand to her heart, panting, with her eyes wide open.
“It’s okay, my dear.” Richard patted Maureen on her shoulder and pointed his index finger at Annie, narrowing his eyebrows. “Don’t use such language in front of your mother.”
He took a deep breath and smiled, waving at a group of passing wedding guests.
“As I said, nothing is lost yet.” Richard rubbed his hands and cackled. “Who would have thought your sister had the guts to put you in her place?”
“I told you, keep her out of it. You’ve done enough damage. And I’m here to end this.” Annie pursed her lips, glaring at him.
“I don’t think so, darling. After all, it’s for your sister’s benefit as well as yours.”
“For yours, you mean?” Annie crossed her arms. “And what exactly is this?”
He grabbed her arm, leaning over and lowering his voice as more guests gathered at the bottom of the stairs.
“You must have heard that we need the Lilac Croft cottage to unlock the inheritance.”
Annie nodded, remembering her conversation with Louise.
“And the only way to bring it back to our family is through marriage. So, without it, there will be no inheritance for you or your sister.”
Annie smirked. “And you want me to believe that?”
Her father put his finger to his lips and lowered his voice even more. “Let’s talk about it a bit later, when we have more privacy. You won’t regret it, I promise.” Richard glanced around. “After all, the deed is done, so there is no rush. Nobody needs to know just yet, am I right?”
That fake double-chin smile split his face. “Just keep it as is for a little longer. It will be better that way, trust me.”
Trusting her father was never a wise choice.
“Why? And for how long?”
The words left Annie’s mouth before she could stop them.
“Not long.” He patted her arm like she was a kid needing reassurance. She shouldn’t indulge his twisted ideas. And now he would think she’d be willing to listen. Annie sighed.
“What won’t take long?” An upbeat male voice next to her ear made Annie stumble to a side. Conrad grinned at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His tie was no longer on his neck, and his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, revealed a black woven leather necklace.
“Dinner.” Richard pushed his rim glasses higher on his nose. “We were just saying that dinner will be served soon, so we should head to the party tent.” He gestured toward the white marquee, a stone’s throw away, at the end of the sandy path.
“Sounds great. There is nothing like a wedding to whet your appetite.” Conrad smacked his lips and winked at Annie.
“Don’t even think about it.” Her voice as hard as the ground in the middle of a draught.
Somehow, whenever that man opened his mouth, he pushed Annie’s buttons. She couldn’t place her finger on what exactly rattled her so much, but if she had to pick one thing, it would be that condescending smirk. He made her feel like she was his intriguing new toy to show off to his mates, and not a living, breathing person.
But what did she expect? She always sucked at choosing the right man, always mistaking a reflection in the water for the sky, and then living through the consequences. Some of them would catch up with her pretty soon, leaving her no time for games.
Conrad leaned over with that glint in his annoyingly mesmerising eyes. “Here, you lost this.” He handed her the veil, brushing her skin with his fingers and sending sparks through her entire body. Annie gasped and pulled away.
What was wrong with her? Every time he touched her, her own body reacted to him like he was a delicious candy.
Before she could say anything, her father broke the awkward moment. “About that food. You need to try everything. That catering—” he placed his hand on Conrad’s arm and pushed him to a side, away from Annie and her mother.
Annie massaged her temples. She really should end this right now. Her mouth opened, but she bit her tongue. Knowing her father, he’d most certainly wriggle out of this somehow—he always did. No, she needed to make it more public, in front of all the guests.
“Where is your shawl? You should cover yourself up.” Mother’s commanding voice made Annie shiver. It was so lovely when her mother pretended to be offended, but it never lasted long.
She looked down at her dress, dishevelled by all that tugging and pulling. She straightened the skirt and pulled down the short sleeves, as the edges had rolled up a little.
Her mother shook her head and smacked her lips. “A God-loving woman would not wear a dress like this.”
“Oh, really?” Annie looked down at her cleavage, barely kept within the fabric. “I thought you picked it with all that sparkle in it?”
“Well, I did, but not for you. This dress wasn’t designed for your big—” Her mother pursed her lips.
“Breasts?” Annie said it loud enough to make a few heads turn.
Maureen gasped. “A well-behaving—”
Annie strolled away before her mother could finish, carrying the veil in both hands. She stepped over the pathway edge made of pebbles and wobbled on her heels, sinking into the grassland.
A little girl in a pale blue dress with curly blonde hair, the same girl that had gone after Annie’s veil, blew on the fluffy heads of dandelions covering the ground.
“Hello.” Annie chirped and crouched next to the girl. Blue eyes gazed at Annie, and little fingers reached out to touch the white lace.
“Would you like to wear it?”
The eyes grew wider, and the girl’s entire face lit up while she nodded.
Nope, no resemblance to any of her cousins. Maybe she was from Conrad’s family?
Annie pulled the remaining pins from her hair, which fell onto her neck in a cascade of brown curls. “What’s your name?”
“Natalie.” An angel whispered, following Annie’s hand with her eyes.
“Beautiful name. Is Conrad your uncle?”
Natalie turned her head from side to side while keeping her eyes fixed on the veil.
So, either she was the daughter of someone on the staff or Annie’s parents used the wedding as an advertising opportunity for their catering and invited strangers.
Annie smiled and draped the veil on the top of Natalie’s head. “Hold it here.” She placed the girl’s fingers on one side of the veil to hold it in place while she slid the pins in.
“You did great.” Annie praised the wide-eyed Natalie after she secured the veil and stood up. “Would you like to see it?”
A vigorous nod made Annie chuckle. She rummaged through her purse before pulling out a make-up mirror and handing it to the girl.
Soon I might have a daughter like you.
Annie rested her hands on her belly while watching Natalie giggling and twirling, with the veil floating in the air.
Or a son.
***
?
C onrad watched his wife placing a veil on a little girl’s head. When she removed pins from her plait, Louise’s wavy brown hair fell like a chocolate river onto her snow-white back with a zip stretching down to the curves of her buttocks.
If he pulled on that zip from the very top of the dress, what would his fingers discover? A silky smooth lacy see-through piece or a sensible soft white cotton?
34 D.
Conrad didn’t need to check to know. And certainly not a push-up. The dress properly cupped Louise’s body, and there was no space left for artificial fillers.
“Is everything set for Monday?”
His father-in-law’s voice brought him back. His mind went blank for a moment, and he stuttered, “Monday?”
Conrad had no idea what they had talked about and how much of the conversation, or rather the monologue, he’d lost.
“Yes, to transfer the cottage as agreed. We just talked about it, son.”
“Right, right.” He put his hand on Richard’s arm. “I’m sorry. I was watching my beautiful wife.”
“Of course, of course, my boy.” Richard clasped his hands together, a gleam in his eye. “Now that you’re happily married, I trust we’ll soon be working on even greater business ventures together.”
Conrad wasn’t so sure about that. There was something off about his wife, or was it just a game to spice things up? Conrad liked himself a challenge, one that would end in the bedroom even better, but what if this wasn’t a game? What if she would ditch him before the month was up?
“I’m looking forward to it.” Specifically, to the part when his wife’s marriage trust fund would land in Conrad’s bank account.
“So, for what time on Monday shall I book the will reading?” Richard asked.
The guy knew how to close a deal, no doubt about that.
“How about you book it for Tuesday, or better yet, Wednesday?”
Richard pulled his rim glasses down, and his eyes focused on Conrad’s face. “Is there a problem?”
Yeah, a big one. Your daughter seems to hate my guts.
“Not at all, but I had no chance to check with my solicitor before the wedding. You know all this preparation.” Conrad raised his hands and smiled. “So, I cannot be one hundred percent sure all will be ready on Monday.”
“Ah, I see your concern, but we can always rebook if things are not ready.”
“Why such a rush? How about we set it for Wednesday, or better yet, the end of the week, so we don’t have to rebook anything?” He beamed at Richard. “Am I right? Right?” He shook his father-in-law’s hands, looking straight into those rimmed glasses. “If you’ll forgive me, my lady is awaiting me, and we have a party to attend.”
Conrad spun around and strode away at a quick pace. When he was only a few metres away from Louise, he slowed down before finally stopping less than a foot away. With her back to him, his wife laughed, and the chocolate river meandered on her head. Conrad swallowed and flexed his fingers. Would she mind if he touched her hair?
“Look.” An angelic-faced girl pointed at him with one small finger, and his wife turned toward him.
“Geez.” Louise wobbled, flailing her arms as Conrad lunged forward to catch her.
“I used to get a warmer reception,” he teased, grinning at her stunned expression. “Shall we?”
His wife wrinkled her freckled nose while freeing herself from his embrace. “Shall we what?”
He pointed toward the marquee in the gardens. “The guests won’t start without us, and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Food, food!” The little girl cartwheeled her way toward the white tent. It made Louise giggle, softening her features. He could fall for that soft smile.
“Right, ready to get this party started?” Conrad extended his hand to hold hers, but she pulled her hand away, grabbed her skirts, lifted them in the air, and marched toward the sandy path.
Conrad exhaled, shaking his head. “Wait.”
No slowing down on his account. In a few long strides, he reached her side and then reduced his pace to match her step. His hands dangled at his sides. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not a monster. If you’re not ready, just say it.”
“Ready for what?” She looked at him, stopping abruptly, forcing Conrad to take a step back and turn on his heel to look back at her.
How could he say this without ticking her off even more? Maybe she was simply scared, and this was how she acted it out.
“Look, you might be wondering about tonight, us being husband and wife and all.”
She blinked, and a slight chuckle escaped her mouth. He was right; she was afraid of him. What a fool.
“But as we only just met, I’m not going to ask you to do anything you don’t want.”
Her eyes and mouth opened wider with clear understanding, and then she looked down, her complexion darkening.
Good job, man. He would pat himself on the back if he could reach. Beneath that mature makeup, she was still a young woman. Maureen had mentioned Louise had little interest in boys, likely too focused on her art, so she probably didn’t have much experience—if any at all.
Conrad’s hand stroked her upper arm in a reassuring gesture, which she didn’t shake off.
Good sign.
“Was that it? I’m sorry for being so insensitive.”
Conrad extended his finger and turned her face toward him. She batted her long dark eyelashes and half smiled at him. A dimple appeared on her left cheek. She had the same expression as in the coffee shop when he had asked about men in her life.
“Finally, I recognise that innocent girl I met.”
She cocked her head, biting on her lips in a way that made his blood boil. If only she knew what she was doing to him.
“I hope you’re not counting on me still being a virgin?” Louise smirked, shaking off his hands like she wanted to rid herself of a nightmare, and took a step back.
Bloody hell. He chuckled, rubbing his neck. From skittish to bold in less than ten seconds.
“We all have our past. It spices up life, doesn’t it?”
Conrad extended his hand to grab hers. As before, she tried to pull it away, but he was faster and held it in his. She fought to free it, but he only pulled her closer to him.
“Let go.” She gasped through her clenched teeth.
“Can’t do. We’ve got married, and people are watching.” Conrad nodded his head toward a group standing in front of the marquee and waving at them. “I’m not expecting you to snog me in public, but you could at least pretend to act like my wife.”
She stopped wriggling and resumed her march toward the tent. “Fine.”
It struck a nerve: women and their “fine” word.
“Seriously, woman, what’s wrong with you? I wasn’t expecting love at first sight, but this?” Conrad waved his hand, keeping pace with his wife. “This is clearly not what I had in mind when we discussed our marriage. Last time we talked, you were up for it, but it seems you had a change of heart.”
She sighed and looked at him from under those lashes. “Sorry, I might have overreacted a bit earlier. It’s the nerves.” A hesitant titter escaped her lips. “After all, not every day one marries a guy they never met.”
Sure, he knew plenty about nerves, but not because of the wedding. Strangely, Conrad hadn’t felt any wedding jitters or doubts about whether he was doing the right thing before the ceremony. If anything, he was eager to get to know Louise and possibly build something together.
Yet ever since she had spoken to him after they had left the chapel, things seemed to have gone from bad to worse at lightning speed.
Conrad swallowed and pulled on her hand, making Louise stop again and look at him. “I need to know if you’ll honour your part of the deal.”
Her cheeks darkened, and she averted her gaze. “My part?” Her voice was shaky and barely audible.
“Well, will you?” He was done with her so-called innocence. She wasn’t that for sure.
“So, my part is to look pretty and give you pleasure in bed. And what is your part?”
He chuckled. “This is not what I asked about, although it would be nice, and I hope we’ll get there.”
That green in her eyes darkened so much it was almost black.
He raised his hands in a defensive gesture as she turned hers into fists. “But maybe not today. What I meant is about sticking to the financial arrangements I have made with your parents and your part in them.”
“Ah, the financial arrangements.” Her shoulders relaxed, and she even smiled a bit, making her face brighten up.
“Yes, and you know that cottage is not a small thing, so I need to have your word I can count on this marriage.”
Louise cocked her head, and a cascade of hair fell onto one side. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Conrad stood there with his mouth open. Her recent behaviour screamed something quite the opposite. Was she for real this time, or maybe she misunderstood him?
“Yeah, I heard about that cottage. The one where my Grandma Ann—” Her voice faltered for a moment. “Where she lived as a child. So, what about it?”
Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“So, I need your word that you’ll stick to your side of this financial agreement.”
Louise bit on her lip. The gesture would make him want to kiss those lips if furrowed eyebrows, and a confused look in her eyes did not accompany it.
Shit.
“Your parents didn’t tell you?”
She waved her hand and shrugged. “I’m sorry, I’m sure they did, but I was so occupied with all the wedding stuff that I didn’t pay attention to all the details.”
His wife took his hand in hers and made a step forward toward the tent, pulling him with her.
“So, what exactly about that cottage in regards to those financial arrangements?”
Her hand felt warm and soft, but he fought off an urge to caress her inner palm with his finger.
“I meant the deal we made. That cottage for your marriage trust fund, as agreed.” A strong pull on his hand made him stumble, almost losing his balance.
“My marriage fund?” She gasped, breathing fast.
Great, just great.
“You didn’t know?” Her eyes were wide open. It was as clear as the blue sky on a sunny day that she didn’t. He had to fix this before she started screaming or, worse, crying.
“But it’s all good. Your parents told me there is more for you in your grandma’s inheritance.”
Louise looked at him, but he doubted she heard him. Conrad put his hands on her shoulders and gazed into those absent eyes.
“I promise I’ll look after you. And you’ll be able to spend days doing your art or taking pictures, or whatever you want.”
She was frozen in time and space. At least she wasn’t screaming.
“And I’ll help with the gallery. I promise you.”
Her facial expression hadn’t improved much. Conrad hoped she wouldn’t faint.
“My marriage trust fund?”
He raked through his hair, wondering what else he could say to reassure her.
“All of it?”
Conrad nodded and exhaled. And he thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
The corners of Louise’s lips curled up in a polite smile that hadn’t reached her eyes. “Excuse me, I need to talk to my parents.”
“Now what?” He murmured to himself, kicking a pebble.?