| |
––––––––
The day before their big day, Marc booked into the suite at The Ritz where they would spend their wedding night, telling her that he didn’t want to tempt Fate by seeing her before the wedding.
Dawn was certain that the superstition claimed it was the day of the wedding only, but she hadn’t made a fuss.
He called her at noon, two hours after he’d left the house.
“How is my gorgeous wife-to-be?”
“Fine,” she replied. “Missing you already.”
“I miss you too, baby.” He sounded as though he meant it and she wondered again why he would have insisted on leaving when they could have so easily avoided seeing each other in the monstrosity of the house. “There’s a woman coming over in about ten minutes to discuss your makeup for tomorrow.”
“I told you that I could do it myself.” The last thing she wanted was some stranger plastering a thick layer of makeup on her face. “In my last year at boarding school, we had a weekly session with a makeup artist. In this era of selfies and social media, they wanted us to be prepared. It was the most insipid sixty minutes of the week, but I played along and became quite an expert.”
The makeup artist had specially focused on teaching the students how to hide imperfection and accentuate their good points.
“I know you’re an expert,” Marc reminded her. “I saw the passport photos.”
“You did.” She laughed. “So you know that I don’t need help.”
“I promise that you’ll like this woman,” he insisted.
“Okay.”
Ten minutes later, almost to the second, Anderson tapped on the bedroom door.”
“Miss Jacobs, the makeup artist is here.”
“Show her in.”
Dawn pasted a fake smile on her face as he ushered the woman in.
For a moment she thought that she was having an out-of-body experience.
Was she in Guyana or was Alicia in...?
“Hey, girlfriend!”
“Alicia?”
“It’s me.” The woman laughed merrily as Dawn stared at her in stupefaction.
Dawn surged to her feet at the woman’s confirmation that she was real and not a figment of a daydream.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dawn demanded, hugging her friend tightly and still wondering if she was dreaming.
“When you told Marc you wanted me to be your matron of honor, he decided that whatever his wife-to-be wants, she gets.”
“Did you leave the kids with Wilfred?”
“No, you told Marc that I wouldn’t leave the children.” Alicia looked as though she would burst with excitement for a minute and then blurted out, “You were right. He’s here...and so are the children!”
“What?” The house sounded as silent as usual. “Where are they?”
Alicia held up a staying hand as if she sensed that Dawn was about to rush out to find them.
“Marc has given strict instructions that we’re not to tire you out.
“Oh, he has, has he?” Dawn rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I keep reminding him that I’m not a delicate flower. I’ll have to beat it into his head.”
“They’re having something to eat at the moment. Then we’re going to Marks & Spencer to try on their clothes for tomorrow. Marc’s PA has been such a sweetheart. I sent her the measurements and shoe sizes and she coordinated everything. She even had coats and blankets waiting for us in the minibus when we arrived. The children need to try on the clothes and shoes and make any last minute changes, if necessary.”
“I still can’t believe that you’re all here.”
“Girl, it was a mad rush making sure that the children had all their vaccines. Getting their passports was a nightmare. Luckily, Wilfred knows someone at the passport office. We had to give him a ‘little something’, but he delivered them on time. Thank God!”
“You must be so exhausted.”
“I am,” Alicia admitted. “And get this, girlfriend. The man wanted to fly us here first class. I had to tell him that I would absolutely not come if the tickets weren’t economy. Could you imagine me and them travelling first class? We would have been thrown off the plane mid flight.”
Due to her height, Dawn usually travelled premium economy, paying for the added legroom rather than the wider seats as many did. There were perks to business and first-class travel, including exclusive lounges and the chance of embarking and disembarking before the other passengers, but spending three to five times more on a ticket just for those luxuries hadn’t ever appealed to her.
Alicia was trim and barely a couple inches over five feet; Wilfred wasn’t much taller. They would have both been comfortable in economy seats.
One of the things Dawn had quickly learned about Alicia was that she didn’t waste money. Though, she told the woman not to bother time and time again, Alicia gave a breakdown of how every penny Dawn sent to the orphanage was spent.
Alicia wouldn’t have traveled first class, even though Marc was paying. As it was, Dawn marveled that he’d persuaded her friend to come. Economy tickets for the entire group would have still cost a bundle.
“Claire and Natasha came too,” Alicia continued, giving Dawn an even greater shock. “Mrs. Thompson absolutely refused. She said that she ain’t getting on no ‘iron-bird’. Said that she’d walked God’s green earth for fifty-nine years without flying and she ain’t going to start now, said that if God intended man to fly, he would have given him wings.”
“Remind me to send something special for her.” Dawn laughed. She could just imagine the woman, hands akimbo as she made the pronouncement.
“And if all that wasn’t crazy enough,” Alicia went on. “While you and Marc are off on your honeymoon, we are off to Disneyland Paris for a week. We’ll fly home from there. Marc said we couldn’t come all this way and not go there before we returned.”
For a moment Dawn couldn’t speak.
While she and Marc had been watching a rerun of Lewis Hamilton’s victory at Silverstone in 2008, an advert for the resort had aired and she’d made an offhand comment that the children would love going there.
“Alicia, what did I do to deserve this man?” Dawn felt her eyes water. “I say things that I think are impossible and he makes them happen. Sometimes I think I will wake up and find that it was just a dream.”
“It’s real, honey.” Alicia laughed and gave her a tight squeeze. “You aren’t a gold-digger—you wouldn’t have given the orphanage so much money, if you were. He wants to make you happy and you deserve it.”
“Sometimes, it feels like too much.” Dawn shook her head. “I have so little to give him in return.”
“Girlfriend, all the man needs is your love.” Alicia winked. “Give him every ounce you have.”
“I do and I always will.” Dawn clapped her hands once to dispel the fear she always felt when life seemed too perfect for disaster not to come hunting her. “Now let’s find those little rugrats of yours!”
***
She had only met Claudia Hollister a handful of times, but she’d experienced Marc’s PA’s efficiency from the moment she’d set foot on the jet the first day of her assignment to Guyana.
Dawn had no doubt that the woman had changed the menu with less than 24 hours notice to take her preferences into consideration. And when they’d arrived at Rosewood, everything needed to ensure Marc’s comfort was in place when he’d arrived.
The woman proved her worth yet again. Taking the children to try on their clothing turned out to be a little more than a formality. Everything fit except for Matthew’s shoes. He needed an extra half size and claimed that his feet must have grown overnight.
As well as some warmer clothing for the adults, Dawn bought new dresses and accessories for the maids for the wedding. Alicia and Wilfred both insisted that they were both happy for the chance to re-wear their own, almost new wedding outfits.
When they returned to the house, Alicia insisted on leaving Wilfred and the maids to put the children to bed.
“Marc will kill me, if you don’t look rested and beautiful tomorrow,” the woman said when they reached the guest bedroom she and Wilfred had been assigned. “Make sure that you go straight to bed!”
“I need to tell you something,” Dawn said on impulse.
She knew that Wilfred would be occupied for at least another fifteen minutes, telling the boys one of his invented, hair-raising stories that they couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“Come inside,” Alicia invited.
“I know that you’ve suspected that I don’t have parents,” Dawn said without preamble. “I’m more grateful than you would ever know that you never asked any questions. Believe me when I say that I kept the details from you only because I didn’t want to upset you or make you feel sorry for me. We are both in better places now and I think it’s time for me to explain why I care so much about you and the children.”
Once she told Alicia that she was the survivor of the quintuple shooting, Dawn had to explain little else. She didn’t mention the attack on Shawn and Alicia didn’t ask about it, either because she didn’t think Dawn capable of it or because she was, as Dawn knew, more likely to believe the best of people.
They hugged and said their good nights.
The next day Alicia walked into Dawn’s bedroom a few minutes before her grandfather came to accompany her to the waiting limousine.
“This belonged to my aunt Gwendoline, the one who left me the nursing home.” Alicia carefully pinned a small enamel brooch with painted blue and white roses to Dawn’s dress. “It’s old, it’s borrowed and it’s blue. Your dress is new, so you’re covered.”
“Thank you.” Dawn hadn’t paid much attention to the old tradition, but it wouldn’t hurt to have the brooch for extra luck. “I’ll give it back to you as soon as the ceremony is over.”
“It doesn’t cost much.”
“If I don’t return it, then it’s not borrowed,” Dawn reminded her. “It was your aunt’s. I know it must be precious to you. I promise that I won’t lose it.”
She was wearing lavender garters, in remembrance of Star.
She hadn’t cried when she’d revealed her identity to Alicia and tears had immediately filled and overflowed the other woman’s eyes.
But she’d cried later at the thought of getting married, something her older sister would never do.
Every milestone in her life would be tinged with the same sadness.
Star would have been an excellent mother, a great sister-in-law to Marc and a wonderful aunt if he and Dawn had any children.
Life had been kind, at least, in giving Dawn someone who embodied so many of her sister’s qualities.
***
Marc had chosen The Brydon Room, the grandest room at the Chelsea Old Town Hall for the ceremony. It had previously been used for both royal and celebrity weddings. Its 38-seat capacity was more than adequate for their invited guests.
When Dawn entered the room on her grandfather’s arms, she saw Marc standing in front of the pastor, wearing a dark gray suit and matching tie, with a lighter gray vest. She remembered seeing him similarly dressed in Guyana and the way it had almost knocked her off her feet.
Today he looked even better and it gave her a thrill that this magnificent man would soon be her husband.
If she’d doubted her choice of dress, they faded when she saw his eyes flare at the sight of her.
For a moment their eyes locked and she felt a quiver of awareness race through her. She glanced away to break the sudden sexual tension between them, in fear that they would grab each other and kiss before they were pronounced man and wife.
She smiled when she saw the children all sitting in quiet awe. The boys dressed in light and dark blue suits and the girls in pastel colored frilly dresses, wearing matching shoes and silk-wrapped headbands with white silk roses.
The ceremony was over before Dawn knew it.
When the pastor said, “You may kiss the bride” and Marc obliged, a piping voice said, “Eugh, she’s kissing Mr. Marc!”
Dawn didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Matthew.
Alicia immediately hissed a loud, “Shhh!”
Then she and Marc were being hugged and congratulated by everyone, including Melissa who looked beautiful in a green silk dress that made her eyes more vivid.
At The Ritz, as they were sitting around the table, Dawn heard her new mother-in-law whisper sotto voce to Marc’s father, “I can’t believe that he wouldn’t allow me to invite my friends to the ceremony, but he let a bunch of brats attend. I swear if he’d invited them here to dine with us, I would have gone home instead.”
Marc, who was talking to Dawn’s grandfather seated on his other side, raised his head and gave his mother a withering look that immediately shut her up.
Although Alicia and Wilfred had been invited to the meal, they had declined in favor of accompanying the maids and the children for a meal at McDonalds and then a visit to the London Zoo before they returned home to rest for their flight to Paris in the morning.
As Dawn had predicted, her aunt Linda gave a touching speech about how much she loved Dawn, the daughter she never had. She spoke of how proud her older sister and brother-in-law would have been to see what a beautiful bride their daughter made.
Yakety, yak... .
Dawn stopped listening after the first minute or so. The woman rambled on and on, seeming to believe her own fiction.
She just wished that she’d known that Alicia, Wilfred, the maids and the children would have been in attendance to shore up the numbers on her side of the family. She wouldn’t have invited her aunt and uncle.
If her aunt thought for one minute that she’d be regularly invited to their home for high tea and crumpets, she would be sadly mistaken.
***
Marc sat on the large bed of the Royal Suite and watched as Dawn did a slow graceful turn at his request.
He hadn’t cared what she wore as long as she’d turned up at the registry. He’d known that she could rise to the occasion when necessary as she’d done the night at Lord Hawkridge’s party, but when he’d caught sight of her on her grandfather’s arm, everyone and everything else in the room had faded into the background.
For a moment he’d had to fight hard to regain control.
She had looked utterly feminine: her short hair styled so that the ends becomingly framed her perfectly made-up face that had never looked more beautiful; a dress that could have sprung from his fantasies and showcased her long, toned legs. Her shoes must have been designed purely to drive men insane.
“You took my breath away today,” he told her as she came to stand between his parted knees. “You’ve never been more beautiful.”
“And you more handsome.” She kissed his brow. “I’m pleased that I pleased you.”
“You wouldn’t have displeased me whatever you wore.” He slid his hand around her nape and kissed her softly. “I still don’t know what I want more, to keep looking at you in this dress or to have you naked under me.”
“The photographer took tons of photos of me in this get-up. You can look at them at your leisure.” She turned around and commanded, “Now, unlace me and fuck me, Mr. Montgomery!”
Marc felt himself harden even more painfully at the word he’d never before heard her utter.
“Yes, ma’am!” He quickly loosened the silken cords that crisscrossed the back of the dress.
She turned to face him, a hand to her bosom and backed several paces away from him before she let the dress fall to the floor.
The sight of her in a tiny thong and garters was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Come here,” he commanded.
She obeyed slowly, hips swaying, a wicked smile on her lips.
He stood, tossed her onto the bed and lifted her right ankle.
“These are very sexy shoes.” He slowly slipped it off before doing the same to the other.
Then he held her left foot in his hands.
“Yes,” she agreed, her foot curling in on itself as if she suspected what was to come next.
“But these feet are sexier.”
She’d polished her toenails for the first time since he’d met her and though the clear polish was only a subtle change, it enhanced their appeal.
He sucked her toes, polish and all, into his mouth.
“Marc!”
She squirmed as he ran his tongue between her toes.
“I’m just obeying your command, Mrs. Montgomery.”
When he nibbled her instep, her back arched off the bed.
“Stop!”
He nibbled some more and then let her pull her foot free.
She got off the bed and said, “Now let me be your valet.”
The words shouldn’t have had any effect on him. Walker often assisted him in and out of his clothes, but there was something arousing at the thought of her performing the task.
He let her undress him, pushing the jacket off his shoulder and placing it on a hanger before tackling the buttons on his vest. She hung that up and then kissed him before she loosened his tie and pulled it off.
He closed his eyes and threw his head back as she started on the buttons of his shirt. He would rip it off if he watched her undo them one by one.
“Sit down,” she instructed and knelt to take off his shoes when he did so.
The sight of her, breasts bare, kneeling at his feet was too much.
She laughed as he tumbled her to the bed for a second time and stripped off his remaining garments.
When he slid inside her, it shouldn’t have felt any different to the many times he’d done so before but it did.
“My woman, my wife!” he growled as he held still and savored the tight clasp of her inner muscles.
“My man, my husband!” she said, just as fiercely.
He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth as they began to move rhythmically and in unison, dancing their special dance that was familiar and different each time.
“The first day of the rest of our lives,” he said as they sipped champagne a little while later.
It was an overused cliché, but it felt somehow appropriate. He’d known her for five months and they’d spent all but one harrowing month together, but saying his vows today had added another dimension to the relationship.
“Yes,” she agreed, her eyes soft and dreamy and he knew that she felt it, too.
The next morning they flew by jet to Sandy Lane, Barbados. The stately luxury villa with its beautiful manicured tropical gardens and concealed from prying eyes by mahogany trees was every bit as picturesque as the brochure had promised.
“Five bedrooms?” Dawn asked with a look of incredulity on her face when they took a quick tour.
“I wanted seclusion.”
His first choice had been Royal Davui Island Resort, Fiji, but he decided that the journey was too long even by jet.
“I hope you didn’t do a Tiger Woods and rent all the other rooms.”
“I didn’t.” He laughed. “I just needed somewhere private where no one could overhear your screams.”
“I don’t scream,” she told him, giving him a playful look of challenge.
“I plan to teach you how to,” he threatened and bent to nibble on her neck.
Marc had chosen the villa specifically for its private butler, housekeeper and chef services. He always preferred the feeling of a home away from home. In a lot of ways, it felt almost as though they were at his home in London, except for the glorious weather.
Most morning he indulged in a full English breakfast, while Dawn chose Continental.
For exercise they swam leisurely lengths in their private pool, forgoing the state-of-the-art equipment in the shared Fitness Centre. Afterward they lazed in the oversized Jacuzzi or on the comfortable sun loungers.
They indulged in the Signature Romance Ritual twice, on the second day of their stay and again the day before leaving. The bespoke couple’s treatment began with a foot ritual in a candle lit room with scattered rose petals. Marc felt almost like a boy, happy and totally relaxed, as he and Dawn were treated to side by side full body and then relaxing scalp massages.
“I will miss this weather,” he told her as they buckled themselves in on the jet the day of their departure.
“Only the weather?” she asked, with a smile on her face.
“Yes. It’s nice to be waited on, but I prefer to be in Didicot, just the two of us.”
“And Walker,” she reminded him.
“And Walker,” he amended with a chuckle.
Honeymoon over, it was time for the real challenge of their marriage to begin.
He had broken down all her barriers, except one, reluctantly agreeing to continue using protection after that one glorious time of flesh-to-flesh contact at Rosewood when he’d secretly hoped to impregnate her.
He knew that despite all they had shared in the last months, she still didn’t quite believe in happy endings.
He was tormented by the image of her with his daughter in her arms.
He would convince her that their child, their children, would bring even more joy to their marriage and go a long way in gentling the memories of her past.
He believed in Pearl S. Buck’s quote: Life is stronger than Death.
One day he hoped that Dawn would understand that Life had shown her the depths of despair to prepare her for its opposite.
*****
