by Helen Bright
“You can get married at sixteen, but in England you need parental consent. In Scotland you wouldn’t need it,” Oliver stated. His brow furrowed, as if he was considering something. I saw him glance across at Franco, who stood watching them quietly.
“I’ll marry you, Tess,” Franco offered, resolutely.
“No! If anyone is going to be marrying Tess, it’s me,” I told him, then glanced at Tess to determine her reaction.
“Kolya, as your solicitor, I must advise against it,” Oliver quickly interjected, looking a little flustered.
“Hang on, everyone. This is my life you’re all discussing here. Don’t I get a say in it?” Tess questioned.
I walked over to where she sat and knelt before her. Taking her hands in mine, I looked into her tear-filled eyes.
“Tess, I know this is not something you would have wished for—getting married as a legal necessity—but I am not willing to risk you being taken from me, or from here: a place where you sleep safely at night. In no time at all you will be eighteen, and will answer to no one. When that time comes you can abandon the marriage, if that’s what you wish.”
I watched as she swallowed nervously. Her eyes darted first to Oliver, then to Franco. “Kolya, I know I saved your life, but you’ve done enough to repay me already. I can’t let you do this. It’s too much.”
“Tess, I want to do this. I would not be able to rest knowing you are out there without me, or my guards. None of us could. Nan would be inconsolable, and we wouldn’t want to cause Danny any more stress and worry—not when he is doing so well. Please, Tess, agree to become my wife. For however long you want or need the name Mrs Tess Barinov.”
Everyone waited with bated breath until Tess nodded slowly, then Oliver cleared his throat before advising me on legal issues. He had his laptop open and was currently looking through what we would need to do to marry in Scotland.
“You have to submit a request to marry to the Registrar General, at least twenty-nine days before the date you want to marry. Although it does state that in exceptional circumstances, the Registrar General can authorise a marriage to take place without the twenty-nine days’ notice.”
Oliver carried on tapping at his keyboard for a few seconds then stopped abruptly, looking up at me with a grin. “Guess who the District Registrar is for Glengarran? It’s Thomas Murray!”
I thought back to a conversation I had with Thomas, the local mayor, when I first became owner of Glengarran Castle. He was a man not too proud to ask for monetary assistance to keep the village and nearby town thriving. As money was not an issue for me, I agreed to fund the cost of repairs to the local school, as well as a new parish room for the priest, Father Creahan. I had since met up with both men socially on my visits to Glengarran, and gave them both permission to fish the loch and use the golf course on my estate. I could almost guarantee they would both be keen to bend the rules a little in order to keep up my regular donations to the church and council.
“I will call Thomas and Father Creahan now,” I announced. “Oliver, gather together any legal documents we will need to present in order for the marriage to take place. Getting a birth certificate for Tess is a priority. Once we have that, there should be no issue.”
“Jean has a copy of my birth certificate,” Tess informed us. “She got a spare when I stayed with her so I could use it to get my school bus pass and a card for the library.”
“Excellent. Lucas can collect it from her before he leaves. Now, please excuse me while I speak with Thomas and Father Creahan. Although I believe that money will do more of the talking in those conversations. We need to get the whole thing organised as soon as possible. Oliver, I know it is getting late, but I need you to source the necessary paperwork.”
I turned to Tess and smiled.
“My darling, I need you to find a wedding dress. There is a dress shop in the village about four miles from here. Nan is a friend of the owner, and often does alterations on some of the wedding and prom dresses. I am sure you have seen the numerous photographs she has on her phone of those she’s worked on. She does delight in showing everyone her work. Perhaps the owner would be willing to open up the shop for you tonight or early in the morning? Nan can arrange it.”
“Kolya, I… Are you sure about this?” Tess asked. She was looking at me as if I was some sort of conundrum she was trying to figure out. As if she knew there was another reason why I was willing to take her as my wife so quickly—other than the danger she was in. My wife-to-be is an intelligent woman, of that there is no doubt. I do have an ulterior motive.
I want her to be mine in more than just my thoughts and dreams. I will rest much easier when the whole world knows she belongs to me.
Once we are married, I’ll take her to my favourite restaurants, show her off to all my family and friends, introduce her as my wife—someone that promised to forsake all others as long as we both shall live. And in a house of God, no less.
If I get my way, and I nearly always do, we will fly to Scotland tomorrow and marry in the church at Glengarran. Then Tess and I can begin the rest of our lives as husband and wife.
* * *
Tess left the room with Franco, promising to reveal all to Nan so they could begin their search for a dress. She still seemed a little bewildered, but as Tess once told me herself, she is one of life’s copers. I had no doubt that she would cope with her grief, and this new development, in her usual stoic manner.
“Kolya, if you are going ahead with all this, we need to talk about a prenuptial agreement. Currently, they aren’t legally binding in England, but a judge will tend to uphold one where they see fit.”
“I don’t need a prenup, Oliver. Tess is not out to take me for everything I have.”
“I’m sorry, Kolya, but as your solicitor, I need to caution you against not having any sort of written agreement in place for when you divorce.”
“Tess and I won’t be getting a divorce. Not when she is eighteen and can live her own life, not ever, in fact.”
“Is Tess aware of this? Because it seemed as though she, and everyone here understood this will be a marriage of convenience.”
Oliver stared at me for a moment, waiting for an answer. I did not give one. He ran his hands through his hair before tilting his head back with a sigh.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Kolya, she’s young enough to be your daughter. Younger than your son. Shouldn’t you stop to think about how he will feel about all this? He’ll have a stepmother who is two years younger than him.”
“James will accept it. He likes Tess.”
“As a friend, maybe. But this is something else entirely. And for his sake, I suggest you do let me draw up a prenup.”
“Okay. Tess can have Glengarran, and a million a year until she remarries. How does that sound?”
“Are you taking this fucking seriously, Kolya?”
“Deadly. If Tess did ever divorce me, I wouldn’t want to be in a place that reminded me of our wedding. And it would be worth even more than a million a year to see her remain single.”
“Why, Kolya? Why have you fallen so hard for her? You’ve only known her for three months. Is it because she saved your life? Is it guilt that she was hurt by a bullet that was meant for you?”
“I do feel guilt that she was shot, but that’s not the reason I feel so strongly about her. I can’t explain it. I felt a connection with her the first time I looked in her eyes as she lay bleeding before me. During that first night in hospital as I sat beside her our connection grew. We have something, Tess and I. A bond that cannot be broken, no matter what happens in the future. I’m not asking you to understand it—neither am I asking you to condone it. But despite whatever you or anyone else thinks, I am determined to make Tess my wife.”
28
Tess
The church at Glengarran was so small and quaint. I was grateful for that. If it had been large and imposing I think my n
erves would have gotten the better of me. As it was, I found myself shaking as I heard Father Creahan ask Kolya to repeat vows that would have meant so much to me if this marriage were real. Well, perhaps real isn’t the right word to use. It most certainly is real. In the legal sense anyway.
“— take Tess Robertson as your lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”
“I do!” Kolya’s answer was loud and clear, leaving the priest and everyone in the limited pews no room for doubt.
But now it was my turn. By the expectant look on Father Creahan’s face I could tell he was confident he’d receive the same answer. Suddenly, my mouth began to feel dry, and despite the coolness of the church, I felt a little too warm.
Even though I’d been standing in one place for so long, my heart was beating fast. I felt as if I’d run a marathon; the pounding of my pulse like rapid drum beat. I looked to my right and saw Nan and Jack—both smiling, although they seemed slightly confused. Turning to my left I saw the priest, also confused. For a moment I wondered why, then I realised he’d stopped speaking.
“I do!” I half whispered, my voice croaky. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone in the church. Everyone but me, that is.
I looked up to find Kolya smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his beautiful blue eyes. He’d been worried I wasn’t going to say it, I could tell. I smiled at him to give him some sort of reassurance that I wouldn’t run screaming for the hills.
There was enough of them around the place—hills, I mean. And fields, forests, and lochs. Inverness had the prettiest scenery I have ever seen, and Glengarran Castle was the icing on the cake. If I were Kolya, I’d live there all the time. It was stunning. So much more so than it had looked on the security monitors.
The castle had been built with the same dark grey weathered stone as the church, and the same coloured stone could be seen on a number of shops and cottages in the nearest village. I couldn’t wait to explore this pretty, peaceful place. We didn’t have time earlier, and there won’t be time tomorrow, once I’ve contacted the police.
We’d flown by helicopter to Glossop, Derbyshire, to meet Jean, before continuing on here. We’d spent a tearful, hug-filled hour together—something I think Jean and I needed.
Sadly, Jean wasn’t able to come here with us. Kolya said if the police found out she’d been at our wedding, they would suspect she’d known of my whereabouts all along. I didn’t want her charged with withholding information, so I had to be content with the short time I spent with her on my special day.
Lucas had been staying in a hotel with Jean for the past two nights, as Kolya had been worried about repercussions from the information the police had received.
Surprisingly, there had been nothing on the news about it until this afternoon—two days after they had received it. Hassan had been arrested in connection with Sarah’s death, and the police had appealed for any information regarding the whereabouts of Tariq and Farid. They’d said the men were currently wanted in connection to her death, but I knew that only one of them could ever be caught and punished.
The very person responsible for Farid’s death had been praying to God just a few minutes ago, having insisted we get married in church if at all possible. Obviously Kolya must believe God overlooks such things as murder. Maybe he thought the ten commandments were just suggestions, not rules?
I’d decided not to ask too many questions about it. There was nothing that could be done anyway, and the more Kolya said the man deserved to die, the more I believed it. What I had a hard time coming to terms with was how someone as sweet and loving as Kolya could take a life—as if it was his right. Was there something about him I just wasn’t seeing? Something that was glaringly obvious to someone else but not to me?
The wedding ring that Kolya placed on my finger caught the light from the stained glass window and sparkled prettily. The band was rose gold set with a channel of diamonds—giving it enough bling without it being too ostentatious.
The one I placed on Kolya’s finger was in brushed rose gold with a platinum channel. It looked good on him. He already had a ring he wore on the third finger of his right hand: a white gold signet ring set with a Cyrillic B for Barinov. My surname now, too, I thought, as the priest pronounced us husband and wife.
“You may kiss your bride,” said Father Creahan, as if it meant nothing. To me, that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Kolya took me in his arms, pulling me flush against his body.
“Mrs Barinov,” he said with a smile, then kissed me full on the mouth. I expected a peck on the lips, maybe one that lingered a little. Instead, with his hand at the back of my neck, he held me to him as he pressed his soft lips against mine in a way that caused my mouth to open, allowing his tongue to brush over mine, once—twice—three times, until I felt myself almost melt into him. My lips held no resistance as he took the kiss further, and despite it being the first time I’d done this, I was surprised how right it felt—and how easy it was to kiss him back.
I heard Father Creahan cough behind us, which was our cue to separate. Not that I wanted to. I’d willingly carry on kissing him despite the audience, if it felt like that every time.
Breathing heavily, and with a shaking hand, I placed my fingertips over my lips. They felt more full for some reason. Sensitive. Right.
I looked up to find Kolya watching me closely, his eyes following the path of my fingers as they traced my lips. The way he looked at me…it was different. Intense.
“Kolya?” I questioned, my voice breaking a little with emotion. I wanted to know what this meant for us: the reason he’d kissed me so passionately.
I watched as his expression changed, becoming serious. Then he put on a smile that I knew to be fake before whispering in my ear, “We have to put on a show, Tess. They have to believe it’s real!”
Just like that, my heart sank, and despite the room full of people, I’d never felt more alone in my life.
29
Tess
The housekeeper at Glengarran, Mrs Braeburn, didn’t like me. Oh, she was polite, especially in front of Kolya, but she was standoffish every other time. Like she looked at me and found me lacking.
I didn’t give a shit!
She didn’t seem to like Nan either, which said more for Mrs Braeburn’s character than it did about Nan, who nearly everyone loved.
The staff at Glengarran didn’t know the reason for our wedding. Kolya said it was better that way. The less people knew, the less we’d have to worry about the police finding out. Not that Kolya didn’t trust the staff here, but there are different levels of trust, some of which are born through time and circumstance. Kolya rarely spent more than six weeks a year at Glengarran, and didn’t spend much time with the staff when he was in residence. He said they were very old school, in an Upstairs Downstairs/Downton Abbey kind of way.
Their previous employer at the castle was a ninety-five-year-old laird, who had employed generations of the same families to work in both the castle and grounds. Mrs Braeburn had been his housekeeper for thirty years, so she was loyal, if nothing else.
She turned her nose up at my dress, which wasn’t a traditional white flowing gown. Well, let’s be honest, my new husband might own a castle, but this was hardly a fairy-tale relationship.
I’d fallen in love with my dress as soon as I’d seen it, although the price tag put me off. At six thousand, five hundred pounds, I thought it was way too much to pay, but Kolya told Nan I was to have whatever I wanted. So the vintage-looking shell-pink strapless dress—with deep-cream lace, became mine. Marion, the lady who owned the shop, provided me with matching heels and lace shawl, which she attached to the edge of my dress on the left side, draping it over my shoulder, effectively covering the scar left from the bullet wound. Vintage pink underwear that my husband would never get to see, along with silk stocki
ngs, completed my outfit.
Nan had given me the pearl earrings and necklace she’d worn on her wedding day, which had been my something borrowed. My despondent mood being the something blue.
I didn’t have anything old, though the castle surrounding me at this very moment fit the bill perfectly. Just looking at it made me feel at peace. Like it had been built here in these beautiful surroundings with me in mind.
The staff at Glengarran had done an excellent job of organising our wedding reception—given that they had only two days in which to do so.
Getting the District Registrar to agree to our wedding without the statutory twenty-nine days’ notice, was never going to be a hard task for Kolya. It wasn’t that Thomas Murray was a greedy man: he wanted nothing for himself, but he made sure to hint enough to Kolya that the local pensioners’ guild would benefit from a new minibus to take them to and from the market and for hospital appointments.
It was Father Creahan who presented more of a problem. He wanted proof that I was Catholic before agreeing to marry us. Lucas and Jean had to visit the priest at the church where I’d been baptised to gather the relevant information.
My grandmother—although the biggest drug dealer in our town, was also a devout Catholic, who never missed church on Sundays. She’d insisted on me being baptised, so I suppose I had her to thank for the fact that I was able to get married here today.
Mum used to say that religion had been my grandmother’s downfall. She’d been caught selling cocaine to three of the altar boys, so in a way, she was right.
I didn’t keep in touch with my grandmother. In fact, I couldn’t stand the woman. In many ways I blamed her for my mother’s drug addiction. I’d often seen her slip her the odd wrap or two, even after she’d come out of rehab, knowing that once Mum had taken whatever she’d given her, I would be left to look after myself.
