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But then he took a different turning. ‘Alex? Where are we—?’
‘You’ll know when we get there,’ he said.
‘You really are an infuriating man.’
He gave her a sunny smile. ‘Indeedy.’
When he drove into Bath and parked outside a beautiful Georgian manor in the middle of the city, she blinked again. This is where we’re getting married?’
‘Stop asking questions,’ he said. ‘We’re staying here tonight.’
‘Alex …’ She swallowed. ‘I know we’re not exactly getting married for traditional reasons, but I’m not supposed to see you on the day of the wedding until the actual ceremony. It’s bad luck.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘I saw Gary on the morning of the wedding.’
‘Honey, that had nothing to do with why your marriage broke up. You just married a man who wasn’t good enough for you and who let you down.’ He stroked her face. ‘I’m not Gary. This isn’t a rerun of your first marriage, and I’m not going to let you down. But I had a feeling you’d be superstitious about this. Which is why we’re having separate rooms—and I’m going to sneak out of your room and go to my own at precisely one minute to midnight.’
‘So when do I see our mums and Saskia?’ she asked.
‘After your alarm call at six.’
‘Six? Alex, that’s the crack of dawn.’
‘Just as well you’re a morning person, then.’ He paused. ‘Bel, there’s something I need to talk to you about.’
Ice trickled down her spine. ‘What?’
‘Don’t look so worried.’ He bent his head and stole a kiss. ‘Just that you need to be on time tomorrow. I know it’s traditional for the bride to be late, but if you’re late tomorrow we’ll have major problems.’
She frowned. ‘So what time are we getting married?’
‘Half past eight.’
‘You’re kidding! Why so early?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he said, ‘all will be clear.’
‘As mud,’ she grumbled.
‘Everyone else is staying at a different hotel.’ He gave her a wicked little smile. ‘So they don’t cramp our style. But you’ll see them in the morning. Our mums and Saskia are bringing your outfit with them.’
He signed them into the hotel, then carried their bags upstairs to her room.
There was a bottle of champagne on ice in her room.
Which had a king-size bed.
‘Time for just you and me,’ he said softly. ‘And there’s something I want to give you. A wedding gift.’
‘Me, too.’ She’d retrieved the watch from its hiding place and packed it in her suitcase before they’d left London.
He turned the lights down low, then opened the champagne and poured them both a glass before raising his own in a toast. ‘To us.’
‘To us,’ she echoed.
He undid his suitcase, then gave her a gold box, beautifully tied with an orange ribbon. Isobel smiled, thinking about her organza wrap: her compromise on the flame-coloured Roman-style veil he’d been so keen on. Alex gave her a suspicious glance. ‘What’s that smile about?’
‘Tomorrow,’ she quoted back at him, ‘all will be clear.’
‘Oh, yes?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe I’ll have to seduce it out of you.’
‘You can try.’
‘Is that a dare?’ His eyes glittered.
She backtracked, fast. ‘No.’
‘OK. You can open it now, if you like.’
She did—and stared at the string of almost perfectly symmetrical black pearls. ‘They’re beautiful.’ They had an incredible shimmering lustre—and although Isobel didn’t know much about modern jewellery, she had a feeling they cost a small fortune. ‘Alex. These are amazing. Thank you.’
‘Happy wedding day,’ he said softly. ‘They’re Tahitian, by the way.’
She tried them on. ‘They feel gorgeous.’
‘They look good on you,’ he said with a smile. ‘Maybe you can wear them tomorrow.’
‘I will. They’ll be perfect with my dress.’ Gently, she took them off and put them back in the box, then retrieved the box from her own suitcase. ‘And this is for you.’
He unwrapped it and blinked as he saw the black ceramic watch. ‘Wow. This is fantastic.’
‘I thought you’d like something high-tech and sophisticated,’ she said.
He tried it on. ‘It’s perfect—thank you. And I’ll wear it tomorrow.’ He put it back in his box, then went to sit next to her on the bed. ‘Come here. Let me thank you properly.’
‘I need to thank you properly, too.’
He smiled, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Their love-making was gentle, and so perfect that Isobel was near to tears.
At precisely two minutes to midnight, he climbed out of bed and pulled some clothes on.
And at precisely one minute to midnight, he kissed her goodnight. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well.’ He stroked his face. ‘And stop worrying. Everything’s going to be just fine.’
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_c570dfcb-32b0-53c2-b691-d02f5b732822)
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 …’
