“What are you going to do about Elliot? If he is trying to hurt you...”
“I’m going to do the one thing that will piss him off the most. Marry you. If you’ll still have me, that is.”
“I will. But why do we have to do it here? Why don’t you quit the family business, and we can elope? Run away. To hell with all of this, and all of them.”
His smile is luminous.
“I couldn’t agree more. But we don’t have to elope. If you’re still up for it, darling, then you need to get dressed. Put on whatever you’d like, and let’s get married.”
I feel a spark of anxiety. “Is that such a good idea? Considering what’s happened?”
Considering I still have Malcolm’s blood under my fingernails?
“Now. Mom’s been putting everything in place to make it happen. Claire, I want you protected in case something goes wrong. In case Karmen can’t trace this woman. In case Elliot does try to do something stupid.”
My God. The aftermath of this woman is incredible. Ten years later, and Morgan is still poison to this family.
“Okay. Let’s do it. It’s never been about the big, crazy wedding for me anyway, Jack. I just want you.”
“I know. I love you, Claire.”
He kisses me, then walks me up the stairs to our room. He retrieves his tux, and says, “I’ll see you downstairs, my love.”
The door closes behind him with a gentle thunk, and I am alone.
63
Little Silences
Jack and I always have had little silences between us. Safe places where we can both retreat. We’d both been broken by our pasts and that’s probably what brought us together so tightly. The commonality of it, the comfort in knowing we’d each had a great loss, suffered great pain.
I wonder if that’s why Henna had insisted on a reading from Genesis for the ceremony: Therefore, shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh. I wonder if she knew. Or at least suspected.
Our silences grew from two bent trees into a forest that provided shelter and safety.
I should have asked. He should have asked. But we spent so much time respecting each other’s emotional limits that we never got to the heart of the things that mattered.
Jack didn’t talk about his wife, so I didn’t talk about my father, or Shane, or my former drug habit, nor why I got my tattoos.
Jack didn’t talk about his wife, and I kept my simmering rage at being his second choice to myself.
Jack didn’t talk about his wife, and I didn’t question him about why.
I realize now that if Jack had told me he killed his wife, I would have told him I killed my father. We would have been murderers together. We would have cleaved together with our biggest secrets.
Instead, I will suffer alone. I guess that’s marriage though, isn’t it? You can only cleave together so much.
64
Only You
It was dumb of me to go out in the rain. Not only did I manage to kill someone, it ruined my beautifully done hair and now I’ll have to do it myself.
But Harper and Katie are in my room, waiting for me, when I get out of the shower. They’re both dressed in their elegant sea mist bridesmaid gowns, so beautiful a lump forms in my throat.
“Ana told us what’s happened,” Harper says. “Let’s get you dressed. We can figure everything else out later.”
I don’t tell them what went down with Malcolm. I don’t tell them what Jack has shared about Morgan. I will be locked in my own silence about the family forevermore, but I want Jack badly enough to make that trade.
It surprises me, this passion for someone who is clearly not what he seems. But I sense he’s now told me the truth, at least all that he can, and that’s enough for me.
Honestly, he could have told me he slaughtered Morgan with a paring knife, and I would still love him. It’s not like I’m an innocent in all of this. It’s not like I’m perfect.
As they get started, I ask them, “Did anyone ever get in touch with either of you about me? A reporter, say, or a stranger?”
“What do you mean?” Katie asks.
“You said earlier that this was the wedding of the century. I just wondered if someone said that to you, or if you thought it yourself.”
“You know there were articles written about the wedding, Claire. Remember the one in Nashville Edit that welcomed Jack to Nashville and gushed about how you two were going to be the society couple of the year? It’s all anyone was talking about that week.”
“Seriously?”
“Girl, you are so dense sometimes. How can you not see these things? Do you never Google yourself?”
The vision almost makes me laugh, almost, though it is not me I’m searching for online, it is my predecessor.
“God, no. I know plenty about myself, thank you very much. Why, have you Googled me?”
“Of course, I have.” I must have looked aghast because Katie laughs. “I Google you, me, Harper, Jack, Taylor Swift, Chris Evans, the Kardashians. Like the rest of the free world. There were a ton of stories about your wedding. It was the hottest ticket in town. How can you not know this?”
“Because I knew we were only having the closest friends and family. It didn’t seem important.”
“Why are you asking all this, Claire?” Harper asks.
“I’m curious how much this Ami Eister imposter could have learned from what was in the public domain versus what she could get from spying directly. Don’t worry, it’s not important.”
Harper looks radiant in her dress; the color is perfect for her. She seems chagrined, and I know she’s got to be wildly embarrassed by her actions.
“Can I help?”
I am determined to let bygones be bygones. I smile, and hold out my hand, which she crosses the room and takes. “Could you fix my hair? It’s kind of a disaster.”
“Curls, or straight?”
“Curls are fine. Just sweep it up, out of my eyes.”
I let them play with my hair, my makeup, until Harper steps back and nods.
“Perfect. You look lovely. Now. What about the dress?”
“I think I should just wear the one I brought for the rehearsal,” I say, but I’m met with a chorus of “Nooooooos.”
I look to Harper. She pulls out both dresses, has me hold the pink dress and Katie the wedding gown. “The pink is pretty, but it’s very slinky, more of a cocktail dress for sure. If it were me, I’d wear the wedding dress. It is gorgeous. And much more bridal. I think Jack would be happy to have you in a wedding gown after all this, don’t you? I know it’s not yours, but it is very appropriate for a wedding.”
“All right. I still feel weird wearing a stranger’s dress. But if you think Jack would prefer it, I’ll do it.”
The pink dress is replaced in the wardrobe, and they get me into the mermaid dress. I really am indebted to Fatima for loaning it to me. Happily, the heady smell of camphor has lessened. She tucked sachets of lavender and rosemary into the bodice and now it smells like the gardens outside before the rain.
“And now for the piece de resistance,” Harper says, and places the diaphanous veil on my headpiece, securing it. She lifts the edges and smooths them down the back of the dress. The veil is cathedral length and made of a soft silk tulle that draws around my body like a cloud. At least this part of my costume wasn’t ruined. I loved it the moment I saw it, the blusher edged in thinnest satin that goes to my waist, the train that trails nine feet behind me. This is the only time in my life I’m going to wear something so outrageously romantic, and I’m planning to enjoy it to the hilt.
I feel a bit lightheaded. “Oof. I need to sit down for a second.”
Harper pushes aside the train and I sit down carefully. The girls step away into the bedroom. They know me. They know I’m jus
t feeling a bit overwhelmed. I stare at myself in the mirror for a few minutes. This is it. There’s no turning back. I’m marrying into a gang of thieves, in a stranger’s dress, and I’m okay with that.
“Everything all right, Claire?” Harper calls. “They’re waiting.”
“Yeah. Give me a second, okay? I went from zero to sixty with a glass of Scotch and I haven’t had anything but tea since brunch.”
Harper comes to the door with a roll of butterscotch lifesavers. “Here. Have two, your blood sugar is probably low.”
I take the candy and suck on it, savoring the creamy sweetness.
“Yum. Butterscotch is my favorite.”
“I know.” Harper twists her hands in front of her. “Listen, I need to tell you something. I sort of blew it earlier. That Ami Eister asshole got to me, too, gave me all this terrible BS information about the family and tried to get me to give it to the press. It almost worked, too.”
“I heard. Pretty awful.”
“Yeah. But Ana was really nice about it and once I’d explained everything, she forgave me. And she offered me a position. Henna’s position. I told her yes, but I wanted to ask you if you’re okay with it. If you’re not, I will go right now and tell her I can’t take the job. I want you to be happy Claire. And if me being a part of this world with you makes you unhappy—”
I smother my little sister in a hug, knocking her back a few feet.
“Whoa.” But she’s grinning.
“If it makes you happy, Harper, you should do it. Ana is a great lady, and you’ll learn a lot. It would be wonderful to have you as a part of the family again.”
And I’ll have an ally if I ever need one, but I don’t say that aloud.
“Well, I’m glad you approve, because I think it would be pretty awesome.”
“My God, what are you two doing? Are you ready yet?” Katie is in the doorway now, too, crowding me in a sea of foamy organza. “I have your flowers. Fatima just dropped them off.” She hands me the graceful bouquet—blush roses, ivory ranunculus, white hydrangeas nestle together with baby’s breath and dusty miller the same color as the girls’ dresses—so simple, yet beautiful, it takes my breath away. Henna knew me so well.
I swallow back the tears. Oh, Henna. Thank you, I think, hoping her spirit is somewhere near.
I smile at my sister. “Yes. Let’s go get married.”
“Hold on, just one second. Come here.” Harper poses me by Venus and takes a few shots. “Just so we have a record... We’ll do more, later. When the light’s better.”
Speaking of light, there seems to be a break in the rain, not actual sunshine, but a lightening of the sky, because the hallway outside my door doesn’t seem nearly as dark.
The moment her camera comes out, Harper, in her element, takes charge, is now talking me through what’s about to happen. “Everyone is waiting at the bottom off the stairs. Ana thought it would be great to go down to the church in one big party—it’s a more typical Italian procession. So, this is your big entrance, Claire, coming down the stairs. They’re all waiting, and I’ll take shots of your descent. When the vows are done, we’ll move onto The Hebrides for the reception. We’ll do photos there, too. They’ve already set up the boat for the party. And there’s a fun surprise, you’re going to love it!”
“I might be a little over surprises,” I say with a smile.
“No, trust me. It’s cool.”
We stop by the huge windows overlooking the labyrinth, just out of sight of the landing.
“Are you ready?” Harper asks.
I nod. We’re moving so fast now I don’t have any more time to be nervous. The flowers hold the gentlest scent, and I let it soothe me.
“Okay. We’ll go first. Katie, I’ll lead so I can get my camera out for you, then Claire goes.” To me, she says, “When you see us at the bottom—” she points and I realize that if I crane my neck, I can see the overflowing urns that top the two pedestals of the base of the stairs “—that’s your cue.”
“Got it.”
She snaps another photo. “You really do look beautiful, by the way. I’m glad you didn’t let Jack do photos before. It’s so much more romantic this way.” She pulls the blusher over my face. “When I’m done with the photos, you will have an album to remember.”
“Thanks, Harper.”
The girls disappear, one by one, the heads sinking below the surface of my gaze as if they’re slipping underwater. There is an appreciative murmur from the guests assembled below.
I watch for the floating sea to pass the urns.
One. Two. Three.
It’s time.
65
A Mess of a Dress
The magnificent split staircase is perfectly situated for the dramatic arrival of a bride. Somehow, while I showered and dressed, they’ve been decorated top to bottom in flowers that match my bouquet. I remember the floating floral scent from earlier—they must have been in the breakfast room. Fatima and Ana certainly were busy overseeing things while Jack and I talked.
The wedding guests are arrayed at the base of the stairs. My mother, still a bit pale, and Brian, both smiling up at me tenderly. Katie, finally happy and excited. Harper, the shutter of her camera clicking away. The lawyers, Jack’s friends, appreciative. Elliot, who is looking at me in utter wonder. I feel a stab of hatred toward him. We will deal with you later, jerk. Tyler, and his adorable boyfriend, Peter. Fatima, standing on the far edge of the room. She sees me, nods, and whips away with a satisfied smile on her face. She’s headed toward the kitchens. I assume she’s going to let everyone know we’re on our way and I feel a rush of gratitude. I couldn’t have done this without her.
I stand at the top of the glorious stairs and listen to the gasps. I feel the grateful blush start running up my throat. All brides look beautiful, this is a given, and this dress does look lovely with my gossamer train.
I enjoy the sensation of being admired, letting all eyes find me.
Letting Jack’s eyes find me.
My heart stutters as I realize the murmur that’s started isn’t one of appreciation. It’s the angry buzz of a disturbed hive. Shock starts to register. Mouths drop open. I’ve done something wrong. Something terribly, dreadfully wrong. The grins on Ana and Brice’s faces turn to horrified grimaces.
I look to Jack again. His face, blank for a moment, has drained of all color. In a heartbeat that feels like it lasts an hour, his eyes meet mine and the pain I see there is overwhelming, visceral. He is angry with me, so angry that I recoil in shock.
He bursts into motion, bounds up the stairs, Ana right behind him. I flinch as he grabs my arm and pulls me away from the stairs, down the hallway.
“Jack, what is it? What’s wrong?” I stumble on the runner and he hauls me upright. He doesn’t speak until we get to our rooms.
He throws open the door and shoves me inside, then attacks.
“What are you playing at, Claire? Are you trying to get back at me? Take it off. Take it off right now.”
“What? What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”
He stops and faces me, shouting, roaring at me: “That’s her dress.”
Her dress.
Oh, my God. I search for words, at the same time trying to find the zipper. I want it off as much as he does.
“Jack, I—”
Ana takes my hand, her voice steady. “Come with me.”
She draws me away, and I glance over my shoulder to see shock and fury in every line of Jack’s body. He is close behind me; I can hear his breath, harsh in my ear.
Ana gets me back into the dressing room and unceremoniously strips me of the dress. She tosses it to the floor and kicks it away. My skin prickles with cold, exposed as I am. I move for the robe hanging on the door, feeling like I’m moving through mud. I pull it over my shoulders. I’m exhausted.
“Where did you even find it, Claire?” Ana asks reproachfully. “This is terrible. Terrible.”
“Fatima—” I manage, before bursting into tears. Choking on my sobs, I finally manage to get the words out. “Fatima gave it to me.”
“Fatima?” Ana is clearly shocked by this news, and Jack, still growling and roaming the room like a caged tiger, draws to a halt. “Fatima gave it to you? She told me she had found a dress for you, but this...this is obscene.”
“She brought it to me, said it belonged to her mother. She had me try it on. That’s why she did my hair, so I could see how it would look. She thought it would be an option for me, since my dress was ruined. She said you loved the idea.”
“Fatima?” Ana says again, still in shock at the betrayal. “But she—”
“Loved Morgan,” Jack says, still wary, but starting to recover now. “She doted on her. Every time we came here, Fatima did everything she could to ingratiate herself. Morgan loved it. Having someone so close to the family who adored her? My God, I didn’t know she had it in her. What a terrible, awful prank. Claire, come here, love.” He folds me into his arms, and I nestle there, safe, and sorrowful, hiccupping occasionally as the tears wind down.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe this is happening. Between Elliot and Fatima...” I swallow hard, trying to keep myself in check. Inside I am a seething mass, I want to kill them both. I want to wring that bitch’s skinny little neck for screwing with me. With us. I want to see Elliot off the cliffside. I am so sick of impediments to our happiness.
Thunder rumbles, low and mean.
“God, not more rain,” Ana says, moving to the windows. “I thought we had a break.”
“She must have ruined my dress in a ploy to get me to wear this one. To embarrass me. To hurt you. God, Jack, I am so sorry. If I’d had any idea...”
Jack puts his hand under my chin. “Darling, this isn’t your fault. Let Mom help you get changed. Let’s keep going, all right? This is just another stupid obstruction, and it’s not your fault, Claire, it’s not. It was meant to hurt me, and it worked. I was shocked, but trust me, I am fine. Are you okay with Mom helping you, or I can send Katie and Harper back up, too?”
Her Dark Lies Page 30
