The Honeymoon Hotel

by Hester Browne

  ‘And you were like the Ferrari?’ Emily was so nice.

  More to the point, she’d described her film star husband as a regular car? I’d have to tell Gemma that. Or maybe not.

  ‘I was. Well, I can see the comparison. But …’ Joe turned my face to his, with his finger under my chin, and gazed at me with a glint in his eye. ‘I got the letter, and it was exciting for about ten minutes, then I suddenly realized that I wanted to tell you about it. And you weren’t there. And then I really had a moment.’

  ‘I know,’ I said softly. ‘I think I had the same one.’

  ‘Wragley Hall seemed pointless without you there. The country-side, pointless. Hotels, pointless. Meals, pointless. I wanted you to be there, telling me how it could all be better, or different, or whatever.’

  ‘Nagging.’

  ‘Not nagging. Sharing. Living.’ His lips parted slightly as his eyes locked with mine, and I felt a shiver run through my whole body.

  My heart was really thumping now, making me feel vivid and alive and aware of every single breath I was taking.

  ‘I’ve been stupid,’ said Joe. ‘But I’m learning. Can you put up with my many imperfections in the meantime?’

  ‘Your useless hospital corners? Your messy eating habits?’ I reached my hand out and touched his ear, the tanned skin of his chin. It was thrilling to have unspoken permission to touch him at last. I had to force myself not to trace his cheekbones, his long nose, his wide mouth. Those tattoos on the base of his spine. Those long, golden-haired legs with the lean muscles. ‘I think so. The rest is pretty fine.’

  Joe took my hand and pulled me nearer to him, sliding his arm around my waist. ‘I didn’t want to do this up there,’ he said. ‘I mean, I don’t hold with all your ridiculous wedding etiquette but I do know this is bad form.’

  With each word he’d leaned a little closer until now our noses were almost touching. A tiny gap of air was all that separated our bodies, and it fizzed and sparked with electricity. I could feel his warm breath on my face, and my heart was beating so hard in my chest I was surprised I couldn’t see it.

  ‘What’s bad form?’ I breathed.

  ‘For two people to kiss at a wedding before the bride and groom,’ he whispered, and slowly he bent his head to mine, closing his eyes and touching his lips against my surprised mouth. His lips were warm and soft, but then more insistent, and I let myself sink into a kiss that felt both familiar and strange, as the nearness of his body, the heat of his skin through the fine linen shirt, overwhelmed all my senses at once. He was delicious. Perfect and delicious.

  ‘Flora Thornbury’s in the pool,’ said someone about a million miles away. Gemma, I think.

  ‘What? In the pool here?’ said another unfamiliar voice.

  ‘Yes, completely naked!’

  I should really do something about that, I thought. Send Tam down with security, or call Missy, or Laurence. Or someone.

  Then I thought, No. I’ve got better things to do. And I tangled my hands in Joe’s thick blond hair and pulled him closer, so I could kiss him again.

  THE END

  (Roll romantic credits; top opera singer to sing song)

  LONDON WEDDINGS

  Details supplied by Rosie McDonald, wedding consultant, Bonneville Hotel.

  Caroline Bentley Douglas, owner of Wragley Hall, Little Oaks, Oxon, and Laurence Bentley Douglas, owner of the Bonneville Hotel, London W1

  How they met: At the British Hospitality Awards dinner in 1984, when the bride’s quick thinking saved the groom from an allergic reaction to a prawn vol au vent. The couple married soon after, raising two sons, Joseph and Alec, and co-managed the family hotel, but separated in 2007. However, recent events brought the pair back together, only for them to find that, rather like the recently renovated hotel itself, some romances just improve with age.

  Proposal: the groom originally planned to surprise the bride during a private chef’s table dinner in the award-winning hotel restaurant, Daffodil, but instead, thanks to a surprise London rain shower, popped the question under a tree in nearby Green Park.

  Venue: The wedding took place in the rose garden of the Bonneville Hotel, now managed by the couple’s elder son, Joseph, and his fiancée, Rosie McDonald.

  Bride’s outfit: The bride wore a knee-length oyster satin dress with matching embroidered coat, and a Philip Treacy feather headpiece. Her ‘something old’ was the groom, her ‘something new’, their plans for a health spa/luxury hotel in Scotland; the ‘something borrowed’ and ‘something blue’ was the pen provided by the wedding organiser to sign the register at the last minute.

  Groomsmen: Best man was Joseph Bentley Douglas, assisted by Alec Bentley Douglas.

  Bridesmaids: There were no bridesmaids. The bride was attended by her two Labradors, Winston and Horatio, and was given away by her father, Sir Devonald Craig-Lockart.

  Vows: The couple wrote their own vows for the ceremony. In addition to their promise to love and cherish each other properly this time, the groom also vowed to listen to the end of every sentence, and to leave tea to brew properly, while the bride promised not to interrupt, and to take a daily multivitamin.

  Witnesses: Model Flora Thornbury and Hollywood actors Benedict and Emily Quayle were witnesses to the wedding, as all three had played a special role in bringing the happy couple back together.

  Flowers: The bride’s bouquet was made up of forget-menots, lilies of the valley to symbolise ‘returned love’, and ivy to symbolise fidelity and friendship, and the couple married under an arch of cream roses entwined with myrtle. The reception was decorated to match the Art Deco theme.

  Jewellery: The bride wore a string of pearls from the groom’s grandmother, Maude Bentley Douglas, founder of the hotel’s famous ‘Farewell to the Year’.

  Reception: An evening reception for three hundred people was held in the ballroom after the earlier wedding ceremony for close family and friends. Music was provided by the Jack Tempest Swing Orchestra, a late supper of oysters, champagne and bacon sandwiches was served, and a fleet of black taxis ferried guests home in style at three a.m.

  First dance: ‘The Second Time Around’ by Frank Sinatra. Followed by a flashmob dance of ‘Oops I Did It Again’, led by Joe Bentley Douglas and Ripley Bentley Douglas Perkins.

  Honeymoon: After a night as first guests in the Bonneville’s newly renovated honeymoon suite, the bride and groom spent three days in a luxury health spa, followed by ten days touring the vineyards of California in a vintage sports car.

  Photographer: Charles Nevin.

  Videographer: There was no videographer. The best memories are the ones in your heart (which also has a very kind filter after a toast or two).

  * * *

  Acknowledgements

  Tucked in the back of Rosie McDonald’s Advice to Brides pack is a list of etiquette musts, and top of that list is Write Your Thank You Notes. Prompt, heartfelt and handwritten, she bosses. These aren’t handwritten (or particularly prompt, sorry), but they’re very heartfelt.

  Thank you to my brilliant, patient, and very funny editor, Kathryn Taussig at Quercus Books, and to Jo Dickinson, a tremendous support and inspiration over the past year; and also to the whole team at Quercus for their amazing enthusiasm. No (wedding) party is a party without the magnificent maid of honour, Lizzy Kremer, ably assisted in bouquet-tossing and hankie-passing by Harriet Moore, and everyone at David Higham Associates.

  And finally, thank you to the friends who’ve invited me to their weddings over the years, beautiful brides every one. I’m sorry for line-outing the bouquet on a few occasions, very sorry for some of the after-hours dancing, and please believe me when I say that none of these brides are based on you.

 

 

 
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