‘Cheating on Rory already?’ Carrington was two years younger than Rory but was fiercely protective of her older brother. She’d never liked Trina, and looked suspicious of her whenever they met. ‘That was much quicker than even I anticipated, so bravo on that score. But on your wedding day? Before we’ve even dined? How tacky!’
‘I’m not cheating on Rory,’ Trina told her new sister-in-law, but she dropped Aidan’s hand anyway. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’
‘So you’re hopping upstairs with this rather dishy man because …’ Carrington gave Aidan an appreciative once-over. Aidan scrubbed up well in his tailored suit and fit in with Rory’s uber-rich relatives, but underneath lurked the real Aidan: the edgier version with a plethora of tattoos. His entire left arm was covered in designs, while a dragon lay across his shoulder blades, its tail winding down Aidan’s right arm to the elbow crease. Carrington always seemed to date super-rich pretty boys whose idea of body art was buying overpriced paintings of naked women to hang in their vast halls, so she’d be in for a surprise if she managed to shed Aidan of his suit.
Trina placed a territorial hand on Aidan’s arm. Her new sister-in-law could play her games with somebody else. ‘We’re going up to my suite so Aidan can fix my hair.’
Carrington gave a horse-like snort. ‘You’d better think of something better than that to tell my brother.’
‘It’s the truth. Aidan is my hair stylist.’
Carrington narrowed her eyes. ‘Your hair stylist?’
Aidan thrust his hand towards Carrington. ‘Aidan Scott. Pleased to meet you. Can I give you my card?’ Aidan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a creamy business card embossed with gold lettering. Carrington plucked the card from his fingers. The sneer she’d been wearing since she’d set eyes on the pair dropped.
‘You work at Salvi Fiore?’
‘He’s one of their top stylists.’ Trina grabbed Aidan’s hand and tugged him towards the staircase. ‘And right now he needs to fix my hair before my guests starve.’
‘How do I look?’ Trina, perching on the stool in front of the dressing table in the enormous bridal suite, twisted her head this way and that to get a good look at her hair in the mirror. Aidan had pinned up the loose wisps and given her hair another blast of spray to hold it in place.
‘You look gorgeous, Trina. You always do.’
‘Thank you.’ Trina leaped from the stool, planting a kiss on her friend’s cheek. ‘She fancied you, you know.’
Aidan started to pack up his kit. ‘Who?’
‘Carrington.’
Aidan looked up from his leather case with a snort. ‘Not my type.’
‘That won’t stop Carrington. She’s very determined. Although she did try to talk Rory out of marrying me and that didn’t work.’ Trina giggled. She still couldn’t believe she was actually married! ‘Come on, let’s get back to the others. They’ll all be waiting.’
‘Don’t you want to stay for a minute? To get your breath back?’ Aidan picked up the flute of champagne he’d poured for Trina before tackling her hair. ‘At least finish your drink. Nobody will mind waiting another minute or two.’
Trina relented. She could use a minute to get her bearings, actually. The day had been a bit of a whirlwind, starting at the crack of dawn when Winnie and Troy, the drill-sergeant-like wedding planner, had charged into her room and started barking orders. Before she knew it, she was being swept down the aisle by her father to take her vows. That short walk was the longest time she’d spent with her father in years and she’d wanted it to last a bit longer, to really appreciate his hand on hers as she linked her arm through his, clinging on as tightly as she could. Her father hadn’t featured much in Trina’s life since he and her mother divorced (and he hadn’t featured much before that, to be frank), preferring his string of lady friends to his offspring. For the few seconds it took them to reach Rory and the registrar, Trina had felt like the centre of his world and she wanted to cherish that feeling as she knew it was highly unlikely to occur again.
‘I still can’t believe it’s actually happened.’ Trina settled on the edge of the bed, being careful not to crumple her dress. ‘I can’t believe I’m married – and to Rory!’
Aidan perched on the stool Trina had vacated. ‘Are you happy?’
‘Over the moon!’ To demonstrate, Trina’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. ‘I feel like it’s all a dream and I’m going to wake up alone. It isn’t a dream, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t a dream. It’s very real.’
‘I hope so.’ Trina drained her glass of champagne. ‘We really should be getting back downstairs. Rory will be sending out a search party.’
Aidan rose from his stool and held out a hand for Trina to take, helping her up from the bed and guiding her back downstairs to the drawing room, which was dressed beautifully in gold and cream. Troy, despite his fearsome manner and foul temper, had done a stunning job in planning the wedding. Perhaps he’d been right when he’d talked Trina out of the silver and pink theme she’d set her heart on.
‘We’ve seated you next to my cousin, Ruth.’ Trina pointed Aidan in the direction of the table. ‘Don’t worry, she’s lovely. We were really close when I was younger. She was like a sister to me.’ More so than Tori, her actual sister. Ruth was older than Trina but, instead of seeing her as an annoying baby cousin, she’d taken her under her wing and heaped attention on her, which Trina had lapped up. She’d been devastated when she’d been sent away to school just before her eighth birthday, because it meant she would hardly see her beloved cousin.
‘We’ll catch up later, yeah?’ Aidan checked before he made his way over.
‘Of course.’ Trina pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss Aidan’s cheek. ‘I need at least one dance with my best man.’
While Aidan threaded his way towards his table, Trina searched the room for her new husband. Rather than waiting impatiently at the head table, Rory was chatting in a corner with his sister.
‘Ah, here she is.’ Carrington examined Trina’s hair and was disappointed to find it immaculate. ‘We were starting to think you’d absconded.’
‘Why would I do that?’ Trina slipped her hand into Rory’s and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I love this man more than anything and I’m looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together.’
‘How sweet.’ Carrington curled her lip as though it was anything but sweet. ‘Let’s hope you don’t take after your mother. How many times has she been married? Four?’
Trina looked at Rory, wondering if he was going to jump to her defence. Apparently not. ‘It’s five, actually.’
Carrington’s eyes widened before she turned to Rory. ‘Good luck. I think you’ll need it.’ Carrington gave her brother’s arm a squeeze before she stalked away.
‘Are you really going to let her talk to me like that?’ Trina could feel her lip wobbling and feared her eyes would join in any moment and wreck her make-up. The last thing she wanted to do was cry non-happy tears on her wedding day, but it felt like Carrington was always going out of her way to undermine her. Trina had hoped that it would stop once she and Rory were married.
Rory placed his hand on Trina’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘She doesn’t mean anything by it.’
Trina begged to differ, but now wasn’t the time or place to argue her point. ‘I suppose not. Shall we take our seats? I think everybody’s waiting.’
When the bride and groom were seated at the head table, dinner was served. Trina could barely manage a couple of mouthfuls, both because she was too excited and because her dress was so snug. Winnie and Troy had devised a brutal diet for Trina to adhere to during the lead-up to the big day in order to fit into the minuscule dress they’d deemed appropriate, but Trina hadn’t followed it quite as rigorously as they’d have liked. Trina – like much of the wedding plans – hadn’t had much say in the dress, but she hadn’t wanted to rock the boat with Rory. He was so close to his mother, and Trina fea
red he would take offence and think Trina was picking at Winnie despite all her help with the wedding. Besides, the dress was stunning, even if it had been a bit of a squeeze getting her inside it that morning. Trina had only just fitted into the dress, but who needed to breathe anyway?
‘Wasn’t it all worth it?’ Winnie had asked as she’d admired Trina that morning. She’d turned to the others in the room – it seemed Trina’s room was filled with every female member of Rory’s family, plus Troy, as she prepared for the day. ‘Honestly, you should have heard her complain! But look at the result! A daughter-in-law to be proud of.’
By rights, Trina should have been stuffing her face with the food presented before her, to make up for the months of eating nothing but seeds and sticks of celery (plus the odd secret, guilt-inducing treat). It had taken weeks – if not months – to finalise the menu, and it all looked and smelled delicious. How annoying that she still couldn’t enjoy her food!
‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Rory asked. He’d wolfed his food down without fearing for the seams of his outfit.
Trina pushed her plate away. ‘I’m too excited to eat.’
‘Thinking about tonight?’ Rory winked at his new bride. ‘I’m certainly anticipating the night-time activities. The sooner we can get rid of the guests and hole ourselves up in the honeymoon suite, the better!’
‘Of course I’m looking forward to tonight, but I’m also thinking about the rest of our lives together.’ It was going to be magical. Unlike her mother, who seemed to thrive on clocking up divorces, Trina was in this for life.
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Rory raised his glass and clinked it against Trina’s.
Yes, she and Rory would have a very happy marriage. She was sure of that.
Three
Ruth
After the photos and dinner – which was, quite honestly, the most delicious meal of my life thus far – we came full circle and ended up back in the Great Hall, where the reception could start in earnest. Most of the chairs had been removed, along with the lily-holding plinths, making way for a retro, multicoloured dance floor and a DJ booth. A free bar had been set up where the string quartet had once stood, and it was already being thoroughly abused by the guests. Trina and Rory’s wedding may have been a classy affair, but I was pretty sure there’d be a brawl or two before the night was over with all that alcohol being gulped down. Weddings always seem to draw out family feuds, and we were only a few vodka and cokes away from putting on a Jeremy Kyle-style display.
All the boring stuff (i.e. the speeches) had been taken care of during the meal, so we could really let our hair down now. I immediately pulled Jared onto the dance floor, though he didn’t need much persuasion. I’d never had a boyfriend who not only liked to dance but was also bloody good at it. In his youth, Jared had dreamed of becoming a professional dancer and although it hadn’t worked out for him after an ankle injury, I was reaping the benefits of his dedication now.
‘I’m just popping to the loo,’ I called over the music. All the champagne and free cocktails were catching up on me. ‘Won’t be a minute.’ I meandered through the Great Hall, following the signs to the toilets which, thankfully, were not in keeping with the ancient castle and were clean and modern.
‘Who is that guy you were dancing with just now?’ Tori, my cousin and the bride’s sister, joined me at the sinks as I washed my hands, reapplying her pillarbox-red lipstick. ‘He is gorgeous.’
I felt my chest swell with pride. ‘That’s Jared.’ And yes, my smug smile continued, he is gorgeous. With his blond hair, mesmerising blue eyes and model good-looks, I’d fancied Jared as soon I’d spotted him, though I’d never have believed he’d find me even remotely attractive back then. I struggled to believe it even now, two years later.
‘Which agency did you use?’
My smug smile dropped. ‘Agency?’
‘Do they still call them escort agencies?’ My cousin tinkled a laugh as she ruffled her platinum blonde curls. Tori, Trina and I shared the family’s blonde, curly hair gene, though Tori ramped up the shade via expensive salons once a month. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had to use one.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Tori was the kind of relative I only saw sporadically at bigger family gatherings, when she had nothing better to attend, so she’d never actually met Jared before. But still! Her question deflated my pride instantly. I’d never liked Tori. She was nothing like her sweet younger sister, and had been a bit of a cow even when we were kids.
‘I didn’t hire Jared from an agency. He’s my boyfriend.’
Tori dropped her lipstick into her bag and turned to face me, her eyes wide with the revelation. ‘He’s your boyfriend?’ Tori, bless her, wasn’t bright (or polite) enough to keep the shock from her voice. I had to feel sorry for the girl. It must have been terribly confusing having just the one brain cell rattling around inside her skull.
‘Yes, my boyfriend,’ I told her.
Tori crossed her painfully thin arms and tilted her head, eying me with a bemused look. ‘As in … your actual boyfriend?’
As opposed to what? My make-believe boyfriend?
‘Yes, my actual boyfriend.’
‘And have you two …?’ Tori waved a hand between us. ‘You know, done the deed?’
Okay, she was annoying me now. I think I’d been generous when I’d assumed she had a brain cell to rattle. ‘We live together, Tori. What do you think?’
Snatching my handbag from the side, I left before Tori could enlighten me with her thoughts – if she actually had any floating around in that dense head of hers. Aunt Gloria may have sent her girls to be educated at the best schools in the country, but she clearly hadn’t got her money’s worth with that one. Who did she think she was, assuming I couldn’t possibly bag myself a handsome bloke like Jared? I mean, I had those thoughts myself – constantly – but that was different. Still fuming, I made my way into the Great Hall, but every ill thought evaporated when I caught sight of Jared dancing with the elderly Betty, twirling her around the dance floor and ending with an elaborate dip.
‘You’ve a smashing young chap here,’ Betty told me once she was righted again. She gave my arm a squeeze. ‘You keep hold of him.’
I fully intended to. ‘Don’t stop on my account, Betty. Have another go.’
Betty fanned her face with her crooked fingers. ‘I’d love to, but I need a fortifying sherry. I’m not as robust as I used to be.’ She left the dance floor with a chuckle, but not before she’d given Jared’s bottom a squeeze.
‘When I’m old, I want to be just like Betty.’ I looked across to the bar, where Betty was now chatting up the barman, who was young enough to be her grandson. She reminded me of my friend Mary from yoga. They were both so full of life, refusing to slow down just because they had a few more miles clocked up than the rest of us.
‘Are you okay?’ Jared and I had wandered towards the edge of the dance floor. He’d ended up being seated across the room from me during dinner so we hadn’t had the chance to talk properly until now. ‘You were looking a bit flustered during the ceremony. Don’t worry – I’m not going to drag you down the aisle, you know. I’m happy as we are.’
‘Are you?’ Jared sounded surprised.
Shouldn’t I have been happy? Was our relationship not as rock solid as I’d imagined? Perhaps it was all a bit shit but I’d been too busy floating around in my happy little bubble to notice.
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but …’ Jared didn’t get the chance to continue, as the DJ announced the arrival of the new Mr and Mrs Hamilton-Wraith. They arrived looking completely in love, beaming at one another, adoration shining in their eyes. It was the way I always imagined Jared and I looked when we were together, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Yes, but … but what? But I don’t want to be with you any more? But I can’t put up with your lack of domesticity for another second? But I’ve found someone else? I turned to Jared to question his statement (in a n
on-nagging sort of way, of course. There was no need to drive him further away) but his eyes were on the happy couple, applauding as they took to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. I clapped along but my heart wasn’t in it. It was all right for Trina. She’d secured her man for life, but what about me? Was two years my maximum allowance for happiness?
‘Don’t they make a lovely couple?’ Mum was at my side, sighing right down my earhole. I thought about batting her away like an annoying fly. ‘Me and your dad used to be like that, you know. Before you and Stephen came along.’
‘So we ruined your marriage, did we?’
Jared gave me a funny look as I snapped at Mum but she didn’t seem to notice my harsh tone.
‘Gosh, no. It’s all this DIY nonsense that has put a spanner in the works. Ha! Spanner in the works. DIY!’ Mum tittered to herself as she wandered away, but was quickly replaced by someone else. Couldn’t I have two minutes alone with my boyfriend? I had an important relationship-wrecking conversation to have here.
Actually, when you put it like that …
‘Hello again! Aidan, wasn’t it?’ I’d never met my dinner companion before that evening, but I wanted to pull him in close, attaching him to my side so that I wouldn’t have to have The Conversation with Jared. Besides, he’d been pleasant company earlier. Much better than Mum and her complaints about the caravan.
‘Ruth! Nice to see you again. This must be Jared.’ Aidan held out a hand, which Jared shook. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
I cringed. I had talked about Jared a lot during dinner; I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t very often that I had bragging rights over a boyfriend. But I didn’t want Jared to know that if he was about to concoct a list of my faults – or, worse, dump me outright. I couldn’t enjoy the rest of the night with this ‘yes, but …’ hanging over my head. Imagine if I caught Trina’s bouquet (which I was determined to do, by the way. That baby was mine) but was dumped on the same evening?
A Beginner's Guide To Saying I Do Page 2
