Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
REBECCA
This is what princesses must feel like all the time.
There I was, assuming we’d visit a couple of department stores and maybe the odd boutique on Regent Street.
Instead, we’re at Harrods. Not the Harrods the general public knows, though.
Little did I know there’s a secret part of Harrods, an invitation-only area known as The Penthouse.
I’ve no idea how the girls swung this, but I guess the name De Vil carries weight.
It’s a lot to take in.
Our personal concierge flutters around bringing champagne and nibbles, and my own personal shopper.
A well-put-together woman called Melanie is, right now, picking out outfits for me to try.
It’s heady stuff. Beats being jostled by the crowds on a busy high street, but at the same time, I’m overwhelmed.
“Just give yourself over to the process,” Vicky says. “They know what they’re doing.”
Melanie returns and beckons to me. “Ready to have some fun?”
I nod, although the jury is out on the fun part. Melanie leads me into the changing room. It’s only then the true horror of this moment wallops me.
My scars.
Some of the dresses are backless. I can’t wear those.
“You can hang your clothes up there.” Melanie gestures to a row of coat hooks, oblivious to the panic careening through me like a runaway train. When I don’t move, she stops bustling around and settles her gaze on me. “Is everything all right, Mrs. De Vil?”
“I-I…” I clear my throat.
Wearing a swimming costume at the spa was one thing. That was a contained environment, where only a select few saw me. The ball is an entirely different prospect, and I am not ready to have my abuse on display to hordes of strangers. “I have scars. On my back. Lots of scars.”
“I see.” Her smile doesn’t hold pity, only understanding.
“Well, then, we won’t need this, this, or this.
” She plucks three dresses out of the pile and puts them to one side.
“But this, I think, will look glorious on you.” She holds up a dress in front of me.
“The rich ruby really brings out the blue in your eyes.”
Her kindness and no-fuss-attitude brings on a raft of tears. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you go into the cubicle and try it on? It has a side zip, so you should be able to manage by yourself. Feel free to call me if you get stuck.”
She’s giving me privacy without openly saying the words. I take the dress and head into the cubicle.
As I zip it up and stare at myself in the mirror, more stupid tears come.
This woman knows what she’s doing. The color does bring out the blue in my eyes.
The high back covers every vile scar Marcus gave me, yet the front is feminine, with a V-neck that shows a hint of cleavage and a slit up one side revealing half my thigh which, I admit, looks good on me. My legs are actually quite nice.
I step back into the main dressing area. “What do you think?”
Melanie gives me a full body once over, then breaks into a generous grin.
“I am good.” She laughs. “In all seriousness, it’s not often I get a hit with the first dress, but that’s it.
That’s the one. You look incredible.” She circles her finger in the air, and I twirl.
“Perfect. All we need now are the right shoes and jewels, and you’re good to go. What size shoe are you?”
“Five.”
She’s back in less than a minute with a pair of gorgeous strappy sandals and what I hope are fake diamonds, because if those are real, I can’t, in all consciousness, wear them. I let her put them on me, though, and I have to admit, they are beautiful.
“Stunning. You’ll turn heads that’s for sure.”
I touch the jewels at my neck. “Can I show my friends?”
“Of course.” She gestures to the exit, and I totter out on heels I hope I don’t break an ankle on. Imogen and Vicky look up as I enter the main area. I’ve no idea where Grace is. Trying on clothes, perhaps.
“Wow! Like, wow, Rebecca,” Vicky says. “If I wasn’t into guys, I’d ravish you myself.”
“You look incredible,” Imogen offers. “That color works beautifully on you.”
I smooth my hands over the fabric. “Do you think?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m glad you found the right dress on the first go around,” Vicky says. “We didn’t exactly give you much time. I’m annoyed none of us thought about this earlier. Thank goodness Grace asked you this morning.”
“It’s okay. I’d completely forgotten about the ball as well, and from the look on his face, so had Tobias.”
“We’ve all had a lot going on, I guess.” Vicky swipes another glass of champagne off a tray that never runs empty. “Still, out of all of us, I feel as though you’ve had the toughest entry into the madness that is this family.”
“I’m doing okay. Tobias has been amazing, just incredible, and Isla adores him. He’s always there when we need him.”
Vicky peers at me over the top of her flute, eyes narrowed. “Hmm, you don’t say.”
“I’m blessed, truly.”
“Mm-hmm.” She wipes her mouth with her thumb and forefinger. “I think somebody has some gossip to share over lunch.”
I look around. “Who?”
She giggles, jerking her chin in my direction. “You, silly. I know that look. The dreamy eyes, the gushing compliments. Something’s happened.”
I blush, full on blood-red cheeks and blotchy chest.
“Yep. I knew it.” She makes a rude gesture. “Rebecca and Tobias have done the deed.”
My jaw drops. “Vicky!”
“Vicky, leave her alone,” Imogen says, firing a sympathetic smile my way. “You deserve a man who’ll treat you like a queen.” She angles her head. “He does, right? Because if he doesn’t, brother-in-law or not, I’ll have his balls in a sling.”
“You’ll need to get in line,” Vicky says. “Rebecca’s one of us now, and we girls stick together.”
“Whose balls are we slinging?” Grace appears from behind me, her perfect figure poured into a deep purple number that plunges to her belly button and skims the floor.
“Tobias’s if he doesn’t treat our girl Rebecca right.”
“They’ve fucked,” Vicky helpfully supplies. “And Rebecca is going to give us all the dirty details over lunch, right?”
“Ooh. I knew something was afoot over breakfast. He kept looking at you as though he wanted to eat you.”
“Bet he already has, right?” Vicky winks.
I can’t help laughing. “You women are terrible.”
They are, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. These people are my found family, my friends. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
I thought nothing could top the Harrod’s Penthouse shopping experience, but lunch at The Dorchester is right up there. It’s all so opulent. I’m trying not to gape at everything and give away how out of my depth I am, but it’s difficult.
The others, though, fit right in. Even Grace, who I know didn’t come from money like Imogen and Vicky. Perhaps, in time, I’ll get used to the star treatment and won’t feel like a spare part.
I keep shooting the odd furtive glance to my left, where the four burly bodyguards—one for each of us—stand conspicuously in the entrance, arms folded, biceps bulging through their suit jackets.
It’s one more thing to get used to by marrying into this family.
Once again, I’m the only one from our table paying them any attention.
Plenty of other guests keep giving them the side-eye, though.
The Dorchester must be okay with it because they haven’t insisted the bodyguards leave.
We order our food, and the second the server retreats, Vicky props her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her folded hands.
“Time to spill the beans.”
I shake my head. “I’m not giving you gory details.”
Vicky pouts. “Spoilsport. At least tell us if we’re right and you two have fu—”
“Moved your relationship onto the next level,” Imogen interjects, giving Vicky a scolding look.
Vicky just laughs. “Yeah, what she said.”
“We have,” I say. “Now, can we drop it?”
Vicky squeals. “I’m so glad. I love Tobias, and he deserves to be happy, as do you.
From the moment he brought you home, I knew, I just knew you two were perfect for each other, and after, well, what you went through with that piece of shit you were married to, I’m not surprised it took you a while to trust that Tobias won’t hurt you, too. But yay.” She claps her hands.
“And she said all that without drawing breath,” Grace says, grinning. “We’re so happy for you both.”
“Let’s leave the poor woman alone now,” Imogen says.
“Okay, what else can we gossip about?” Vicky leans in conspiratorially. “Any of you know what’s going on with Saskia?”
“No,” Grace replies. “But I was only saying this morning to Christian that something is afoot. She’s definitely hiding something.”
Relieved to have the conversation move onto someone else, I sit back and let their chatter flow over me. I haven’t had many happy days in my life, but this is right up there, and my instincts tell me it’s only the beginning.
Imogen sent her personal team to do my hair and makeup, and as I stand in front of the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself.
Who is this striking, confident-looking woman who once cowered at the slightest noise and now stands tall?
I still have moments where I wobble, but that’s to be expected.
Marcus’s claws burrowed in deep, and it’s taking time to dig them out.
I’m well on my way, though, thanks to Jane’s help and Tobias’s unwavering support.
Excitement as well as nerves unfurl in my belly. I’ve never been to an honest-to-goodness ball before. I hope I don’t mess up and embarrass Tobias.
Isla tugs on my dress. “Pretty Mama.”
If I live to a hundred, I will never get sick of hearing Isla talk.
I want to hug her therapist every time I think about it.
The thought of where I’d be if Tobias hadn’t rescued me and given me and Isla a future is the stuff of nightmares.
One day, I hope, I’ll be able to put the past where it belongs and live in the now.