“You’ll never believe what I just heard!”
Ilsa looked up from her desk as Ainsley came into the office, blond curls fairly bouncing with excitement, the secret, like effervescence, bubbling up and out of her.
“Peter Braddock is going to marry Thea Berenson,” Ilsa said, circumventing any thought her apprentice might have of making this a guessing game. “This coming Saturday.”
“I knew you’d know the whole story.” Ainsley dropped into the chair in front of Ilsa’s desk, blue eyes dancing with curiosity and the possibility Ilsa would tell all. “I do wish you would have told me, though, so I didn’t have to hear it from Miranda, but what happened? Miranda said she heard they got caught in Thea’s bedroom by none other than old Mrs. Carey, herself, and that now Peter’s being strong-armed into marrying her. But I told Miranda that didn’t sound like anything Peter would do. Or Thea, either, for that matter. But that’s the story going around and so…” She leaned forward in high-energy anticipation, “is any of it true?”
Ilsa was sick at heart over the whole episode. Sorry she’d ever even thought about the possibility of Peter and Thea, sorry she’d mentioned it to Archer, sorry she hadn’t been able to think of any way to stop Peter from facing off against Davinia. “Ainsley,” she said now, because she wanted her assistant to understand. “Not every introduction of possibilities has a happy ending. I was wrong to let this one go forward against my own very strong reservations.”
“But I had the same idea about Peter and Thea.” Ainsley scooted forward in the chair, all eagerness and empathy. “I did. Remember at Angela’s wedding? I asked you if it was all right if I did a little behind the scenes matchmaking? I was talking about Thea! I was! Honest. And I thought if I could help her some, you know, with makeup and clothes and stuff, that maybe Peter would think of her in a new way. Really, I did. I thought of that exact same possibility. And our intuition must have been right on some level at least or they wouldn’t be getting married.”
Enthusiasm was a good thing, Ilsa reminded herself. She’d brought Ainsley into IF Enterprises for that very reason. The business needed new ideas, new angles, new possibilities, an infusion of spunk. But this thing with Peter and Thea…well, it wouldn’t work. This wasn’t a love match. It wasn’t even a marriage of convenience. Not for Peter, not for Thea, not for their families. It was Peter showing Davinia she couldn’t humiliate him and get away with it. Period.
James agreed on that point.
Archer agreed on that point.
Bryce, in person, and Adam, by long distance, agreed the marriage was a bad idea.
But Peter would hear none of their arguments against it. He’d proposed and been accepted. Congratulations was all that was left to be said.
Ilsa looked across the table at Ainsley’s bright-eyed eagerness to believe in yet another fairy tale and managed a rueful smile. “Thea is staying with me until Saturday,” she said. “If you could go over sometime this afternoon and persuade her to choose something to wear to the wedding, that would be a big help.”
“I can do that.” Ainsley beamed with excitement as she bounced up from the chair. “I’d love to do that.”
“I hope you can convince her to go shopping because…” Ilsa let the sentence trail away as she glanced past her apprentice and caught sight of James in the doorway.
“Hello, Ilsa,” he said. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” She rose, standing behind the solid safety of her desk, trying to be professional even if she suddenly felt like a tongue-tied schoolgirl. “James, you remember Ainsley Danville, my new assistant?”
“Yes, of course, I do.” James’s smile brightened the whole room, perhaps even the whole world. “I used to be very good friends with your dad. We were in school together years and years ago and concocted quite a few ill-advised shenanigans between us. There was one particular week, I believe, when we spent more time in the headmaster’s office than in the classroom.”
Ainsley dimpled with delight. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, Mr. Braddock, because the way my father tells it, he was a model student.”
“He certainly became a model philanthropist,” James said diplomatically. “The last I heard he and your mother were in Sarajevo.”
“They’re in Ethiopia now, but this year they’ve promised to be at home with us for the holidays. Maybe you and Dad could get together and talk about old times.”
“I’d like that.”
“Ainsley?” Ilsa asked. “Would you excuse us please?”
“Oh, right, Mrs. Fairchild. I’ll just go on with that…uh, project…we were discussing, shall I?”
“I’d appreciate anything you can do,” she said and Ainsley was off and running, closing the office door behind her, before Ilsa changed her mind. Not that Ilsa would. There was nothing to lose by letting Ainsley turn her enthusiasm on Peter’s chosen bride. At best, she might be able to bring Thea out of the doldrums she’d been in ever since her arrival in East Side. And at worst…well, the situation could hardly get worse no matter what Ainsley or anyone else did. “Would you like something to drink, James? Coffee, perhaps?”
“Thank you, no.” He stood, hovering almost, although there was nothing hesitant in his set and solemn expression. “May I sit?”
She nodded and he took the chair Ainsley had just vacated. Suddenly, the room, a normally spacious, comfortable place, seemed to shrink all around Ilsa and the air fairly jumped to attention. Something had changed between one breath and the next.
Or maybe it was simply the thudding rhythm of her own heartbeat.
Which was silly, since she was seldom fooled by attraction in any of its many disguises. There was no denying her heart had always had a foolish spot for this man, but her head had always known better. She eased down into her own chair, clasped her hands on top of the desk, looked at him and wondered how old a woman had to get before she gained some degree of immunity to the Braddock charm. “I imagine,” she said, “you’ve come to talk to me about Peter and Thea.”
His smile held all the nuance of a shrug. “I’ve come,” he said, “to ask you to convince Thea not to marry my son.”
Ilsa sighed, wishing anything in life could be so simple. “A monumental task, especially as Thea seems to be in a blind stupor and hasn’t said ten words in the three days and nights she’s been at my house.”
“What does she say?”
“‘I’m sorry,’ and ‘thank you.’ Sometimes a combination of the two.”
“No word from Davinia?”
“Unless you count a notification from her attorney, advising Thea she’ll lose her inheritance if she marries Peter.”
James shook his head. “Crazy old woman.”
“Poor Thea.”
“Not if she marries Peter.” James pursed his lips, allowing trouble to etch its line across his brow. “But this can’t be a happy arrangement for her, either. Please do whatever you can to persuade her, Ilsa.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll put on my best tux, a glad face and wish Peter all the luck in the world. I’m hardly the one to be critical of his choice, regardless of the circumstances.”
She loved that James freely admitted he hadn’t set the best example for his sons and yet, still somehow managed to convey his absolute and unwavering love for them each and every time he spoke their names.
“I’ll talk to her,” Ilsa agreed. “Although you probably shouldn’t count on that having much effect.”
“What about if I count on dinner…with you?”
The air changed again, became thicker with an expectation Ilsa recognized and did not want to name. “Is that a threat? I persuade Thea or else…”
His smile coaxed her good humor. “I was hoping you’d view it more as a long overdue invitation, but if a threat gets you to agree to go out with me…” His shrug was as charming as the slightest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
“Are you asking me on a date, James?”
She bit her tongue to keep from saying, “Yes, yes, of course, I’ll go,” and asked instead, “Did Archer suggest it?”
His surprise was too real to be feigned. “Dad? No, as a matter of fact, I thought of it all on my own. I’ll even confess there was a time I thought you and my dad were…well, let’s put it nicely and say…a couple.”
She laughed. “Archer and me? You, of all people, James, should know there’s never been room in his life for any woman except your mother. It’s funny the idea would ever even cross your mind.”
“Yes, well, we Braddock men sometimes get strange ideas about women. And while I realize I’ve been the standard bearer in that department in the past, at the moment, Peter is the prime example.” James’s smile faltered, then returned in full measure. “Since you didn’t say an emphatic, no, I’ll take that as a good sign. For dinner.”
She decided to lay her doubts on the table. “As a professional matchmaker who deals in possibilities, I have to advise you the odds aren’t good on anything developing other than the friendship we already enjoy.”
He got to his feet, a tall, distinguished man who’d weathered joy and sorrow, good choices and bad, and who still made her heart beat a little faster than it ought. “I’ve been a fool for lesser things, Ilsa. I think I’ll take my chances.”
Once again, she couldn’t breathe. Or think.
But fortunately, he continued. “In the meantime, while you’re considering the possibilities for us, see what you can do with Thea.”
“I will,” she said, hardly above a whisper, and with a nod and a smile, he walked away, leaving her to wonder exactly what she’d just agreed to.
THEA DIDN’T LIKE TO SHOP.
She didn’t know how, for one thing, because she’d never had the opportunity to learn, nor anyone to teach her. She’d worn uniforms all through school and at home, her grandmother believed in the adage of “waste not, want not,” which meant as long as there were clothes in the closets at Grace Place, there was no reason to shop for more. Thea’s mother had apparently been a very good shopper because there was plenty of expensive, made-to-last-a-lifetime clothes in the closets, even if the newest of them was still a quarter of a century out of date. Any purchase Thea had ever made on her own, out of the small allowance she received monthly, had been subject to Davinia’s critical eye, and even if it was eventually deemed suitable for a lady, Thea could never wear it with any degree of pleasure once she’d been made aware of its flaws.
And that was the other reason Thea didn’t shop. Nothing looked the way she imagined it would. She wasn’t tall or elegant or graceful. She wasn’t petite or cute or pretty. She was so ordinary in appearance, in fact, even the best fabrics and the most classic of designs hung on her with a lackluster indifference. It was easier just to wear her mother’s old clothes and pretend she didn’t mind, than to pine for a stylish look she could never hope to achieve.
And now, by the flicker of dismay in Ainsley’s bright blue eyes, Thea could tell that the wedding gown she’d just put on was no improvement over the last one or the one before that. But she turned to the mirror, anyway, hoping that just once she’d see someone other than her own mediocre self.
“Hmm,” Ainsley murmured diplomatically as she eyed the dress.
“Maybe something less…fluffy,” the bridal shop clerk suggested.
Thea wanted to suggest they just forget about bridal gowns and all go out for an ice cream, but she didn’t. She just stood there, letting them fuss and figure and evaluate each gown in turn. She knew no dress was going to look right, because she wasn’t right. That was simply all there was to it. Maybe if the situation had been different, maybe if she was really and truly a bride, then it might have mattered. She might have cared one way or the other. But none of this was real. It was a long extended daydream, a rather lovely daydream, at that. But still, she knew Peter didn’t want to marry her and she knew he’d call a halt to all this craziness long before Saturday.
Never mind that Saturday was only two days away. Never mind that she’d burned a bridge just in pretending she believed the wedding would actually take place. Her grandmother might never speak to her again, might never even let her in the door of Grace Place again, might never ever forgive her. Thea had been thinking a lot about that ever since Peter had taken her to Mrs. Fairchild’s and left her there with his repeated assurances that “everything will be all right.” She wasn’t certain she believed him, but it was nice to hear just the same.
He’d been in Boston all week, staying at his apartment there, working in his office at Braddock Architectural Designs. Thea knew that only because he’d mentioned it every time he called to talk to her, which had been surprisingly frequent…twice, sometimes even three times a day. There was no doubt Peter believed she was happy to be away from gloomy old Grace Place and her gloomy old grandmother. And maybe she was. But she really missed her cats.
“What about something not so…white?” Ainsley asked the clerk, who pursed her lips, obviously straining to think of any dress in the inventory that might look tolerably bridal on Thea.
“There is one,” the clerk said hesitantly. “It’s very plain and an odd sort of color for a wedding dress. It would be a lovely gown for someone with your blond hair and fair skin, Ms. Danville, and I don’t know, but it might be all right for your friend. It does happen to be in her size. If there were time for alterations to be made, of course, I’m sure we could find something more suitable, but…”
“But there isn’t time,” Ainsley confirmed with a smile despite the slightest edge of impatience in her voice. “So let’s try the gown you mentioned, shall we? Is that all right with you, Thea?”
Thea was used to being talked about as if she wasn’t there. It happened to her all the time, and she appreciated Ainsley’s attempt to include her in this conversation even if the clerk had long since dismissed her as irrelevant. But she truly didn’t care if they left this store with a dress or not, except she wouldn’t for the world want to hurt Ainsley’s feelings. “Let’s just take that one,” Thea suggested, determined not to see herself in yet another awful dress. “I’m sure it will be fine for what I need.”
“But…” Ainsley began and then, catching Thea’s eye in the mirror, she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s take it, sight unseen, and if we don’t like it we’ll bring it back tomorrow. Steam and press it,” she told the clerk. “Mr. Braddock’s chauffeur, Benson, will pick it up later this afternoon.”
“Braddock?” The clerk couldn’t disguise her recognition of the name nor her surprise as her gaze turned, unbelievingly, to Thea.
“Braddock,” Ainsley repeated, her dimple flashing Thea’s way with a touch of satisfaction. “As in Braddock Industries, Braddock Hall…Shall we write that down for you?”
“No, I’ll take care of everything,” the woman said, suddenly eager to please. “Is there anything else, Ms. Berenson? A veil, perhaps? Undergarments? Some intimate apparel for the wedding night?”
Thea’s heart suddenly whisked into a frenzied rhythm. Wedding night? She hadn’t thought about that, hadn’t thought about so many things, hadn’t a clue what would happen to her after Peter called off the wedding.
“Ms. Berenson?” The clerk offered a solicitous hand to help her off the dais.
But Thea shook her head mutely, and stepped down by herself, stumbling a little over the unaccustomed pouf of the bridal gown. She waved away any assistance from the clerk or Ainsley, and scurried into the dressing room, eager to get out of the dress and out of the store. What had she been thinking to come on this shopping trip, anyway?
She didn’t like shopping.
So why was she here, shopping for a wedding gown to wear at a wedding that wasn’t ever, no matter how hard she dreamed, going to be real?
“AS A HIDEOUT, this place leaves a lot to be desired.”
Peter turned from the window of his office to see his oldest brother in the doorway. “Adam,” he said with genuine pleasure. “What are you doing here in Boston?”
Adam’s smile was relaxed, easy, light years removed from the Type A tension that had marked his every expression just six months ago. But that had been Adam BK, as Bryce liked to call it. Adam, before Katie. A clear delineation. Peter thought his brother looked good. Better than good. Happy…all the way through his heart and out the other side. “Now, Peter, you didn’t think Katie and I would let you get married without us, do you?”
Married. Peter’s stomach clenched at the word, but he didn’t let it show as he moved forward to shake his brother’s hand and give him a quick, affectionate, welcome-home hug. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “How long are you and Katie going to stay this time?”
“Indefinitely, as it turns out.” Adam’s smile broadened, his face flushed a little with excitement. “Katie’s pregnant.”
“Congratulations.” Peter cuffed Adam on the shoulder. “That’s great news. So does that mean the extended honeymoon is over?”
“With Katie, life is always going to be one long extended honeymoon. The baby’s an early bonus, believe me.”
Peter envied Adam his confidence in love, just as he’d always envied him his confidence in life. “But you’re going to stay at the Hall at least until the baby comes?”
“Katie has a couple more places on her list of things to see before that happens, but by early spring, I think we’ll be back for good. My wife has a new appreciation for tradition, it seems, and she really wants the baby to grow up at Braddock Hall. Of course, Grandfather thinks that’s a grand idea. He’s encouraging her to pursue this scheme she has of opening a tea room and gift shop in downtown Sea Change.”
“What about you, Adam? Don’t tell me you’d be content to watch the baby while your wife works. You can’t have changed that much.” Peter grinned. “I know for a fact the people of Sea Change would be happy for you to take Bryce’s place on the town council. He aggravates them all just for the fun of it.”
“I know. Dad was telling me about the brick project and the fiasco that’s turned into. And to be honest, Peter, Bryce has already talked to me about the possibility of stepping down as CEO, too, anytime I’m ready to take over.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Our brother has never made any secret of the fact he prefers limiting his responsibilities so he has plenty of time for other things. And now that he’s married and has Cal, I think he’s feeling the pinch of too many time constraints.”
Adam nodded agreement. “That’s the idea I got from him, too. I’ll be the first to admit I’m beginning to miss the challenge of working, even though I’ll never be so totally consumed by that high-powered lifestyle again, not with Katie to keep me sane. But I don’t want Bryce to feel like I’m eager to shove him aside, either. He’s done a great job, certainly better than I thought he could.”
“He has. Maybe we ought to think about combining our philanthropic trusts under the umbrella of a single foundation and putting Bryce in charge of it. He’d be great at that, lots of PR for him to do and not so much pressurized responsibility.”
“Good idea,” Adam said. “We should talk it over with Grandfather and Dad. See what they think.”
“Maybe this weekend,” Peter suggested. “Since we’ll all be home.”
“Except you’ll be sort of busy, what with getting married and all.”
“Oh. Right.” And there it was. The reason Adam was here now. Peter didn’t have a doubt that his oldest brother had been designated official spokesman by the other Braddock men. He was here to point out the flaw in Peter’s thinking, the mistake he was about to make if he married Thea. They’d all had a run at him in one way or another this past week. It was Adam’s turn, and Peter decided he might as well get this over with and remove the last if from their thinking. “Can you believe all three of us getting married in the same year? Only months apart? Pretty amazing when you think what confirmed bachelors we all were a year ago.”
“Amazing, indeed.” Adam frowned. “And in your case, a bit mystifying as well.”
“Not really. You wanted to marry Katie. Bryce wanted to marry Lara. I want to marry Thea. Pretty simple.”
“Oh, come on, Peter. You don’t want to marry Thea.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Adam.”
“You’re not in love with her. You hardly know her.”
“I know this is right, Adam. I can’t…I won’t…offer any other explanation. Not to you, not to Grandfather, not to Dad. Not to anyone.”
“Be her champion then, if you must, but don’t marry her. That’s the wrong solution to her problem and the start of a whole new set of problems for you. Believe me.”
“I happen to believe it’s the only solution to her problem and the answer to a question I’ve been asking myself for years. I’m marrying Thea on Saturday, Adam, and that’s the end of this conversation.”
Adam eyed Peter, his doubts written clearly across his brow. “All right, if that’s what you want, I’ll say congratulations and wish you luck. But Peter, please reconsider. You don’t have to do this.”
“I do,” he said firmly because it was true. “So tell me about the places on Katie’s list, the ones you still have to visit?”
Adam relinquished his mission with good grace, as a gentleman should. “Next up,” he said, “is Nome. Don’t ask me why she wants to see Alaska at this time of year, and I’m trying to persuade her to postpone the trip, but you know Katie. She’s determined to…”
As the tension eased under the tales of Adam’s and Katie’s big adventure, Peter figured he’d weathered the last of his family’s overt objections. They would say nothing else to him about it.
Now all that was left was to get through the wedding without Davinia showing up and making a scene…although technically, that was something a lady would never do. But Peter wouldn’t put it past her.
THEA WAS STILL waiting for the knock on the door when she heard the music begin downstairs.
“That’s our cue.” Ainsley, looking cute as a rosebud in a bright pink Escada suit, picked up the bridal bouquet and held it out to Thea with a smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a look in the mirror? Really, Thea, that dress is perfect.”
Thea shook her head. No, she didn’t want to look at herself and see what everyone else was too nice to say. They’d all been so nice to her. Ainsley, Mrs. Fairchild, all of the Braddocks…Archer, James, Adam, Katie, Lara, Bryce and Peter. Most of all, Peter. But she’d thought he would come to her before now, explain how he couldn’t marry her, had never really intended to marry her, knew she’d understand why marriage wasn’t the answer.
And she would have understood. Truly.
“Ready, Thea?” Ainsley was opening the door of the upstairs bedroom, stepping out, walking with a measured beat to the top of the staircase…starting down.
Thea didn’t know what to do except follow.
Her knees quivered with every step and she had to walk slowly because the dress was long and swished in swirls of delicious silk about her feet. Ainsley had insisted she wear these dainty little shoes that were half ballet slipper, half house-shoe and Thea was overly conscious of their tendency to slip on the marble tiles. Ainsley had done something to her hair, too, pinned it up somehow, stuck little twigs of baby’s breath in it and now the topknot felt heavy and as if it was about to tumble down in her face at any minute. She’d managed to keep her black-framed glasses, despite Ainsley’s subtle suggestion that perhaps, this once, she could get by without them. And she could have…but she was glad now for their familiar weight on her nose. Her breath came in short, shallow puffs as she made the turn and looked down at the great hall below.
She expected Peter to be waiting there at the bottom of the wide stairs, waiting to tell her he couldn’t marry her. But it was Archer Braddock who smiled up at her. Archer, who waited to escort her into the library. Thea took a deep breath, trying to think what to do. Ainsley had reached the bottom step and was even now making the turn toward the library. Music from a string quartet floated about like butterflies, drawing Thea down one step and then another.
This wasn’t the way she’d thought it would be.
She’d thought Peter would stop it.
Or her grandmother.
But she reached the landing and crossed it, took another step down toward the bottom.
Maybe Peter was waiting until she reached him. Maybe he would make an announcement then that this was all a mistake, a figment of Thea’s imagination. But the stairs beneath her slippers were solid, as was Archer’s hand reaching out to help her down the last few steps. And when she turned with him, she could see the people inside the library, standing, watching as she slowly approached the doorway, and they were real, too.
Peter was there, ahead. Standing straight and tall in front of the minister, watching her, his lips curving in a nervous smile, so handsome she couldn’t breathe. She’d always thought he had impeccable taste, but in his tuxedo, he looked splendid. Which was another reason this couldn’t be real. Peter Braddock should have a wife who was beautiful. Thea wasn’t, so this could not be real. He could not be marrying her. Not her.
But then the music stopped and Archer patted her hand. The next thing she knew, Peter had taken her hand in his and she was making the last decisive step, facing the minister, who opened his book and cleared his throat.
“Dearly beloved…”
The bouquet of fresh flowers shook in her fist and a petal broke free and fell, end over end, to the floor. She stared at it, a sliver of palest pink, lying there, out of place on the richly colored pile of the oriental rug. It didn’t belong in this warm inviting room any more than she did.
And if Peter wasn’t going to stop this, if he meant—unbelievably—to marry her, then it was up to her to save him from whatever madness had claimed him.
But how to do it without making a scene? A lady never caused a scene. Ever. So could she manage a laugh and say, “All right, no one here really believed we were going through with this, did they?” Did she run from the room like a coward? Break out in wild sobbing? Faint dead away?
That last, at least, seemed like a viable option. Her breath was coming still in short, shallow gasps and if she stood here much longer, she really might faint.
“Theadosia Elsinora Grace Berenson,” the minister intoned solemnly. “Will you take this man to be your lawfully married husband?”
Time was up. Thea looked up at Peter, gathered courage she didn’t know she had, and said what had to be said. “No. I’m sorry, Peter. But I can’t do this.”
And then she fainted.