‘You can always bring it back and change it,’ Mrs Munro suggested.
‘That’s an idea, Jenni. Or you could bring her with you to choose it, and pick the dress up then. Maybe your father could bring you next week, on your way back to uni, and he could pick the dress up and bring it home.’
‘That’s a brilliant idea! And it would mean Grannie gets to help me and she’ll feel involved, and we don’t have to struggle with the dress on the train! Fantastic,’ she bubbled, but Maisie hardly heard her, because echoing in her head were her own words.
He could bring the dress home. Not take it home, but bring it…
‘So have you chosen your outfit yet?’
She dragged herself back from the brink and met the woman’s eyes.
‘Um—no. This has been sprung on me, really. I only knew about it three days ago.’
‘So, do you have any thoughts?’
‘Something pretty,’ Jenni said, twirling again in front of the mirror and laughing in delight as the skirt swirled out. ‘Not mumsy. She’s not mumsy at all, she’s a bit of a gypsy. She’s practical and sensible and down to earth, and she needs something really beautiful to do her justice—and don’t argue, Mum. I want you to look beautiful for my wedding, and it doesn’t matter if you can’t wear it again. But not one of those ridiculous mother-of-the-bride outfits. You’re much too young for that.’
She smiled and shrugged, and the matron eyed her up and down. ‘What colour are the maids wearing?’
‘A soft lilac, I think,’ Jenni told her. ‘Alec’s a Cooper, and the Cooper’s got a mauve line. I wanted to pick it up.’
She nodded, and then eyed Maisie again and shook her head. ‘You can’t wear that colour. It would be awful with your colouring. You need something gentle—cream? That would be all right with the Mackenzie dress tartan the Laird’ll be in. Jenni, do you mind if your mother wears cream?’
She stopped twirling in front of the mirror and turned round to face them. ‘No. Why? Have you got something?’
‘A lace dress—it’s very pretty, very beautiful, actually, and it fits like a dream. I got it in for a mother of the bride but she changed her mind and decided to go for something more conventional on the knee. It’s sleeveless, shorter at the front with a little fishtail skirt at the back just skimming the ankles, but it’s got straps so you can wear a proper bra and it has a lovely little bolero with it. I’ll get it.’
It was perfect. The moment Maisie put it on, she knew it was right. It hugged her figure, skimmed her hips and snuggled in under her bottom, and the bolero just completed the look.
‘Wow, that’s fabulous! Good grief! You look really hot,’ Jenni said, and Maisie felt a soft tide of colour sweep her cheeks.
‘Are you sure it’s not too…?’
‘Too what?’ Jenni asked, and then shook her head and laughed. ‘It’s gorgeous, Mum! You look absolutely stunning. You’ll blow Dad’s socks off!’
She froze, her breath wedged in her throat, and then gave a strangled little laugh. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ she said, but Jenni just flapped her hand.
‘Don’t be silly. You look really beautiful. You have to have it.’
She did. She absolutely had to have it, even if she never dared to wear it, because nothing she’d put on in her life before had ever made her feel so good.
‘I’ll take it,’ she said. ‘I don’t even want to know the price.’
‘It’s reduced, actually, because the lady had paid a non-returnable deposit, so I’m taking that off for you. Just take it as a sign.’
Sound advice. She decided to follow it, and just hoped there was enough space in her account for both it and the wedding dress. She paid for both, and the shoes, and then they said a grateful goodbye to the wonderful and really not so scary Mrs Munro and headed back towards the station.
‘So, are we all done?’
‘I think so,’ Jenni said, and turned to her mother and hugged her. ‘Thank you so much. I know Grannie wanted to buy me my dress, but I’m really glad you did. I wanted you to, so much.’
‘And I wanted to. Never mind, we’ll have to tell her all about it and she can see you in it next week when you choose the veil.’
‘I’ve already chosen it, I think.’
Maisie smiled. ‘But she doesn’t know that, and if you’ve got any sense, you’ll make sure she doesn’t, because I’m still feeling a little guilty.’
‘Don’t. We’ve had a fabulous day, and I love her to bits but you’re my mother. It should be you. And I just adore your outfit.’
Maisie glanced down at the bag in her hand with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. What if Rob hated it? What if he thought it was inappropriate?
What if it blew his socks off?
‘I adore it, too,’ she admitted. ‘What do you think about shoes? And do I need a hat? Or a fascinator?’
‘Oh, they’re fun.’
‘I think they look as if a chicken’s landed in your hair,’ she said, and they laughed together, talking accessories over a shared pot of tea in a little café, and then, because neither of them had the energy to keep looking, they caught the next train home—there she went again, calling it home when it was no such thing—and arrived in time for supper.
‘So, did you have a successful day?’ Helen asked as she dished up Mrs McCrae’s delicious cottage pie.
‘Brilliant. I’ll tell you all about it when Alec’s not here,’ Jenni said, wrinkling her nose at him mischievously.
‘So this is it, then, is it? The One?’ he asked.
‘Mmm. It’s gorgeous—absolutely huge, with a great puffy skirt and hoops and sleeves and—’
He tore a corner off his bread roll and threw it at her, and she giggled and ducked.
Dear heaven, she was still a little girl in so many ways, so full of fun and the boundless enthusiasm of youth. Maisie caught Rob’s eyes and found an indulgent look in them she’d seen before, when Jenni was little.
They exchanged knowing smiles, and she felt her heart hitch in her chest. Oh, no. She was too vulnerable to him, and being forced into his company like this was leaving her wide open to hurt.
She wanted him so much—still, even after all this time, felt the same way about him as she had when she’d first met him—but she still didn’t know him, couldn’t trust him not to turn away from her again if things got sticky. She had to get away.
She looked down at her plate, playing with her food, trying not to think about him, because he was too dangerous for her.
‘So I was thinking, as we’ve got the dress and my outfit sorted, I could go back to Cambridge early next week, perhaps Monday or Tuesday,’ she said a little abruptly, and then listened to the echo of her words around the room.
There was a heartbeat of stunned silence, then Rob said, ‘But I thought we’d agreed you’d stay longer?’
She met his eyes again with forced calm. ‘No. You suggested it, but if we can get the majority of the decisions made this weekend, there’s no need for me to stay longer. A great deal of it can be done over the phone or the internet. So long as we’ve settled the guest list and ordered the invitations and the other stationery, I don’t see any point in being here when Jenni’s back at uni, and, besides, I have a lot to do at home.’
‘She has a point, Dad—the important stuff’s done, and she’s got a life down there, you know. She can’t just drop everything and be here to save you having to make a few phone calls.’
‘Fine,’ he said, a little curtly. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be all right. I just thought—’
‘Well, you thought wrong,’ she said, quietly but firmly. ‘I’m happy to come back if necessary, but I can’t sit around here with my life on hold in case a decision needs to be made.’
‘Apparently not. Well, you have to do what you have to do. Right, if you’ll excuse me I’m needed—some guests want to plan their weekend’s activities and I need to have a look at the website. There’s a hitch.’
/> ‘It was working fine earlier,’ Alec said, sounding puzzled, but Rob had pushed back his chair and was heading for the door as if he couldn’t bear to be in the room with her another moment.
‘Well, it’s not now,’ he said over his shoulder, and yanked the door open just as Mrs McCrae reached for the handle.
‘Oh—are you away, Robert? I made sticky toffee pudding—’
‘Save me some, I’ll have it later,’ he growled, striding away down the corridor and leaving them sitting there in a strained silence that nobody seemed to know how to break. Jenni got there first, reaching over and covering her hand, her eyes distressed.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. I might have known it was too good to last,’ she said after a moment, but Maisie just shrugged.
‘Well, you didn’t really expect it to be plain sailing, did you?’ she said lightly. ‘We were obviously going to disagree on something. We always did.’
Jenni nodded, and then smiled up at Mrs McCrae who was poised with the spoon and shaking her head after Robert. ‘You’re going to have to stop feeding me up, Mrs McCrae. I can’t put any weight on, my dress fits perfectly.’
She smiled indulgently. ‘Does it, hen? That’s lovely. Just have a wee piece of the sticky toffee, then, to be on the safe side.’
‘Give her a nice big chunk. I’ll eat what she can’t manage,’ Alec said with a grin, and with his gentle charm he steered the conversation back into safer waters and Maisie felt herself relax again.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE was going back.
Damn.
Not that he could work out why he wanted her here a moment longer. The whole time she was here he was restless and unsettled, and the last thing he needed was her announcing that she’d cleared her diary and could be here until the wedding, but he hadn’t expected her to run away quite so fast. There was still so much to do, so many decisions to make, so much to sort out.
‘Oh, dammit,’ he muttered, flicking on the computer and scowling at the screen. There was nothing wrong with the website. Nothing at all. It was just an excuse to get away, like the guests who wanted to talk about their weekend activities. They’d already done that earlier, and Alec knew it full well.
So he wasn’t surprised when there was a knock on the door a short while later, and Alec slipped through it and closed it softly behind him.
‘Problem with the website, is there?’
He shoved the chair back from the desk and propped his feet up on the edge. ‘Why’s she going so damn soon, Alec? There’s still tons to sort out. What have I done wrong?’
‘Maybe she’s just busy.’
‘Bull,’ he said shortly. ‘It’s just an excuse to get away. It’s what she’s always done when it gets too difficult—she runs away.’
‘Well, you should know, you’re the expert.’ He shoved some papers out of the way and put a tray down on the desk. ‘Here—I brought us coffee and some pudding.’
‘More?’
He grinned. ‘Always room for more. I’m going to have to get Mrs McCrae to teach Jenni how to make it.’ He prodded the bowl towards him, and Rob picked it up and toyed with the sauce, dipping the spoon in it and trailing it over the top of the sponge.
‘She just gets to me.’
‘You don’t say. Actually, I think it’s mutual. I think the reason she’s going is she’s having trouble dealing with how she feels about you.’
‘She doesn’t feel anything about me. Well, that’s not true. She hates me.’
‘Does she?’ Alec murmured. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. She doesn’t look at you as if she hates you. Far from it.’
He frowned, prodding the pudding, releasing the gloriously warm, sweet scent of it, and then to stall a little longer he dug the spoon in and scooped up a chunk of sponge. ‘I think you’re wrong,’ he said, pointing the loaded spoon at Alec. ‘I think she’s just antsy here. She’s always hated it.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged and put the spoon in his mouth, stalling again.
‘She must have loved you once,’ Alec persisted. ‘Jenni says she’s never known her to have a boyfriend.’
He stuck the spoon back in the bowl and dumped it on the table. ‘Really?’ he said, his voice flat as if the subject bored him, when the truth was he was riveted.
‘Really. And she looks at you as if…’
‘As if…?’
Alec shrugged diffidently. ‘As if she’s never really got over you. If you want my honest opinion, I think she still loves you.’
‘Loves me?’ He snorted and picked up the bowl again. ‘Now I know you’re talking rubbish. She’d got over me by the time she had Jenni. I wasn’t here for the birth, and the next time I was home on leave, she could hardly bring herself to look at me. It went from bad to worse.’
‘You were in the submarines, weren’t you?’
‘Yes—and away for months at a time with no contact. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but I got such a chilly reception when I did come home that frankly I was glad to go back. She didn’t get on with my father either, and she upset my mother all the time. Then when Jenni was six months old, I went back to sea again, and when I came home, she was gone.’
Alec scraped the last trace of sauce off his bowl and put it on the tray. ‘Why?’
‘I have no idea,’ he said flatly. ‘We never talked about it. She didn’t even tell me to my face, just left a note for me, packed up all her things and took Jenni with her.’
‘And you didn’t go after her?’
He sounded incredulous, and Rob sighed shortly and rammed his hand through his hair. ‘No, Alec, I didn’t go after her.’
‘Maybe that’s where you went wrong?’
He snorted. ‘I don’t think so. Unlike some people, I can take a hint—and that was a hell of a hint. So forgive me if I think you’re wrong about her. I think she was over me by the time I went away to the navy, and the only reason she didn’t leave earlier was because Jenni was so small. She hated it here—hated the castle, hated the weather, hated my parents—it was a disaster. The only good thing to come out of it was our daughter, and she took her away from me. Frankly, if we can just get through the run-up to the wedding without killing each other, I think we’ll be doing well.’
He met his future son-in-law’s thoughtful eyes head on. ‘So—was there anything else I can do for you, or are you just here to pick over the bones of my failed relationship with your future mother-in-law?’
Alec gave a huff of laughter and got to his feet. ‘No, that was all. Finished with your coffee?’
He glanced at it. It was stone-cold, and it was the last thing he needed. He was wound up enough. ‘Yeah, take it away, I’ll get a fresh one when I’ve finished this. And, Alec? Look after Jenni. Make sure this didn’t upset her.’
He nodded, picked up the tray and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.
Rob sighed and dropped his head back against the chair, locking his hands behind his neck and staring at the ceiling. There was a water mark on it, and he made a mental note to check the plumbing in the bathroom above. Another thing to add to the endless list.
He checked his email, sorted out a glitch on the website— poetic justice, he thought drily—and then took the dogs out for a walk along the beach in the moonlight before heading back to the house.
There was a light on in Maisie’s bedroom, and he could see her sitting there in the window, staring down at him. Watching him.
Was Alec right? Did Maisie still love him?
He felt his chest tighten at the thought, emotions he’d long put behind him crowding him. They’d walked together on this beach so many times at first, climbed up to the ruins to be alone together. They’d hidden a blanket up there in an old stone alcove, and when the weather was fair they’d stretch it out on the soft, sweet grass inside the ruined tower and make love for hours.
His eyes burned, his chest tight as he remembered the sweet moments they’d shared. She’d been a virgin when he’d met her, his the
only hands to touch her. Such a precious gift, and he’d treasured it, but she’d taken it away from him when she’d left.
So long ago. Lifetimes.
Of course she didn’t still love him. If she’d loved him, she would have stayed, but she’d walked away without a backward glance, and only a madman would have gone after her.
‘Maybe that’s where you went wrong?’
He glanced up again, frowning, but her light was off now. Was she still watching him in the dark?
Damn her. He didn’t need this. His emotions were like acid inside him, eating at him, and he felt more unsettled than he’d felt in years.
Whistling the dogs, he went back inside, poured himself a hefty malt from the distillery in the village, too restless to sleep, and tackled the sliding pile of paperwork on his desk.
‘Mum?’
There was a quiet tap on the door, and Jenni put her head round.
‘Oh, you’re awake. Good. I’ve brought us tea.’
She pushed the door open and came in with a tray, setting it down on the table by the window seat and sitting next to Maisie. She put her arm out, and Jenni snuggled up, resting her head on her shoulder as she’d done for years.
‘It’s so nice, having you here,’ she said. ‘I miss you.’
‘I miss you, too. We haven’t had early morning tea together for ages.’
‘I know—and it’s all going to change when I marry Alec. We’d better make the best of it.’
‘Mmm.’ She rested her head against Jenni’s, then asked the question that had been troubling her for days. Even Mrs Munro had raised the subject yesterday, and Jenni had blushed and denied it, but Maisie wasn’t sure, and she wanted to be sure, because it simply wasn’t a good enough reason for marriage. So cautiously, tentatively, she said, ‘Jenni—you would tell me if you were pregnant, wouldn’t you?’
Jenni lifted her head and stared at her mother for a second. ‘Of course I would. Mum, I can’t be pregnant.’
‘There’s no such word as can’t,’ Maisie said drily, but Jenni shook her head, a shy blush warming her pale cheeks.
Mother of the Bride Page 6
