‘Sorry I’m late, babe.’
Tom starts. His hands snatch away from my shoulders as he stumbles away from me. I turn to see Archie striding towards us, shaking his head as he waggles his phone in the air.
‘Work, again. They can’t cope without me.’ He rolls his eyes and loops an arm around my waist. There’s the instinct to bat away the contact, the urge to squirm away. ‘Aww, did I miss the entire display?’
‘Every little bit.’ I move away from Archie and his clutching hand. ‘I was just heading back inside.’
‘Oh?’ Archie frowns as he looks from me to Tom and back again. ‘It looked like you were chatting with Tom when I came out.’
I nod, swallowing hard. ‘Just saying goodnight. I’m really tired. Going to have an early night.’
Archie leans in close. ‘Would you like me to tuck you in?’ He’s whispering, but I’m sure Tom overhears.
‘I think I should go.’ Tom reaches for me, and I feel a spark of hope. But he simply takes the jacket that is still draped over my shoulders.
‘Goodnight, Tom.’ Archie places his hand around my waist again and pulls me in close. ‘Let’s get you up to bed, babe.’
I open my mouth, but Tom is already striding off and Archie’s guiding me towards the castle.
What would I say, anyway?
I’m never very good at waking up in a new place, my mind, still foggy from sleep, trying to work out where I am, a sense of dread weighing heavy on my stomach as I figure out what will greet me when I manage to prise my eyes open fully. It happened constantly when I was growing up; was it my bed at home that I was waking up in, or the bed in the guest bedroom at Aunt Dorothy’s? Who would greet me as I crept down for breakfast: Aunt Dorothy, or one of Mum’s crusty boyfriends? The only place I’ve ever really felt safe is the bed at home, the home I share with Alice. I know what will greet me as I head down the stairs: first Carrot, winding his way around my legs, and then Alice with the offer of a cup of tea if she’s up before me. Lately Kevin has been there too, but it doesn’t bother me like the presence of Mum’s boyfriends did. He doesn’t scowl at me or scratch himself with one hand while buttering his toast with the other. Alice and Kevin are my family now, more so than Mum was ever capable of being in any capacity other than blood.
Waking up this morning, I instantly know I am not at home. The bed is too narrow, the room too dark due to the thick curtains at the castle rather than the flimsy ones at home that let too much brightness in first thing in the morning.
Ah, yes. I’m at the castle.
Last night was the bonfire and fireworks display.
Tom…
I stretch out in the small bed, keeping my eyes tightly closed to put off the moment I have to face reality.
‘Good morning, honey.’ Alice’s voice is warm and familiar, but I’ve still been dreading it. I cover my face with my hands and give my eyes a rub with my fingertips. Colours in weird and wonderful shapes are dancing in front of my eyes, but I continue kneading at my eyelids just to delay the inevitable, awkward chat we’re about to have.
‘I saw you.’ I feel Alice’s weight on the edge of my bed. ‘Getting cosy last night.’
‘Oh, God.’ I force my eyes open and wriggle up into a sitting position. ‘You did?’
‘Yep.’ Alice draws her knees up to her chest and rests her cheek on them, sighing. ‘I wish Kevin was here to feed me toasted marshmallows by the fire. I don’t think our electric fire will have quite the same romantic feel, do you?’
My heart rate has been galloping, but it starts to slow as I flop against the pillows.
Archie! She’s talking about Archie, not Tom. Dreading the prospect of being alone in my bedroom with Archie last night, I’d convinced him I’d changed my mind about sleep and wanted to enjoy the bonfire for a bit longer. An image of Archie feeding me the marshmallows I was definitely not in the mood for pops into my head and I feel a bit queasy.
‘It really wasn’t as romantic as you think.’ I swing my legs out of the bed and shove my feet into my slippers. ‘I felt a bit sick after the first one.’
‘You didn’t look sick.’ Alice purses her lips as she watches me slip my dressing gown on. ‘You looked really happy.’
I didn’t feel it, believe me.
‘It was inspiring.’
Okay, she’s gone too far now. Romantic, I sort of get if you’re observing the couple in question and don’t know one of them is practically being forced-fed the sickly treat. But inspiring? Was the woman high?
‘Seriously, Emily. You’ve been so brave these past few days, putting aside your issues and giving Archie a proper chance. You’ve inspired me to do the same.’
‘You’re going to let Archie feed you marshmallows until you want to hurl too?’
Alice rolls her eyes. ‘Funny.’ She hops off the bed. ‘I’m going to be brave, like you. After the wedding, I’m going to tell my family about Kevin, and if they don’t like it, it’s tough luck on their part. I want what Carolyn has.’ Alice holds up a finger. ‘And no, I’m not talking about Piers. I want the wedding. The babies. The whole shebang.’
‘That’s fantastic!’ I wrap my arms around Alice and give her a squeeze. It really is fantastic, but it sucks for me. I can’t exactly come clean about using Archie as a human shield from her matchmaking now I’ve given her the courage to stand up to her family, can I?
Chapter Thirty-One
Alice has to go to the wedding rehearsal this morning, so she grabs a piece of toast and an armful of fresh fruit from the dining room before hurrying off to the chapel. I grab myself a more leisurely bowl of cornflakes, sitting by the window that looks out onto the courtyard. Part of me is hoping to see Tom working out there, but the more sensible part is relieved to see the courtyard is empty. After last night’s kiss, it’s probably best if I avoid contact with Tom for the duration of my stay at the castle.
‘Mind if I join you?’ I groan inwardly as Archie drops himself into the chair next to mine. ‘I’m surprised you can eat after all those marshmallows last night. I didn’t think you were ever going to stop.’ He chuckles, but I can’t even raise a flicker of a smile. Talk about rewriting history! It was Archie who insisted I eat them, practically skewering me on the end of the stick as he shoved marshmallow after marshmallow in my face.
‘What do you want to do today?’ Archie takes my non-spoon-wielding hand in his and gives it a squeeze. ‘We can have another walk in the woods if you’d like. Go back to the umbrella tree.’ He raises an eyebrow at me suggestively. ‘I promise not to lose you this time.’
‘Actually, Archie, I think we need to talk.’ Archie has a pretty tight grasp of my hand, but I manage to tug it free.
‘I don’t want to talk.’ Archie leans towards me, kissing me on the lower cheek, dangerously close to my mouth. I shift away from him in case he goes in for another. ‘Shall we get out of here?’
‘No, I’d rather not.’
‘Oh, really?’ Archie leans in towards me again, but he doesn’t make any attempt to kiss me this time. ‘And why’s that?’
‘I haven’t finished my breakfast.’ My voice comes out infuriatingly feeble, but I pull my bowl closer to back up my argument.
Archie laughs, but there isn’t a hint of hilarity. It’s a cold sound. Harsh. ‘You’re choosing a bowl of soggy cereal over me?’
I give a weak shrug. ‘I’m hungry.’ I scoop up a spoonful and pop it into my mouth. It is soggy. Like cardboard left out in the rain overnight.
‘I don’t think it’s that at all.’ Archie reaches past me and pushes the bowl away. ‘I think you’re playing games with me. And not the good kind.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I don’t deny it; I can’t. But I will try to dodge it.
‘I’m not stupid, Emily.’ He grabs my hand again, but his grip is fiercer this time, almost painful. I try to pull away, but he increases the pressure and pulls me closer to him. ‘If you’re not into me, just say so.’ His voice is low. Menacing.
‘Don’t piss me around and make me look like a fool, or you’ll regret it.’ He’s really squeezing my hand now and I’m about to yelp when Francelia marches towards us. He drops my hand, a charming smile fixed firmly in place before he looks up at her.
‘Good morning, Aunt Francelia. You’re looking as beautiful as ever this morning.’
Francelia flickers a smile before she gets down to business. ‘I need you down at the chapel.’ Her eyes dart towards me, watching briefly as I rub at my fingers, but she’s more interested in her psycho nephew. ‘It’s the wedding rehearsal and Roderick hasn’t managed to get up here yet, so you’ll have to step in and give Carolyn away.’
Archie pulls a face. ‘Can’t she just pretend her dad’s there?’
She’s had good practice with that, I’m itching to add, but wimp out. Francelia looks like she’s on a mission and any quips from me won’t go down well.
‘No, she can’t.’ Francelia looks down at my hands again, but I’ve hidden them under the table. ‘But I’m sure you’ll do your favourite aunt a favour and step in.’ She sighs and rubs at her temple. ‘You wouldn’t believe the pressure I’m under, Archie. Seriously. There’s the rehearsal dinner tonight, which is still being organised as we speak because Carolyn hasn’t finalised the photos she wants projected on the screen. I said to just leave it for the reception, but no, she wants a preview tonight. We’ll have to scrap the idea altogether if she doesn’t pull her socks up.’ She sighs again. ‘And then we have the stag and hen nonsense tonight, not to mention the rehearsal at the chapel in…’ She looks at her watch. ‘Oh, goodness. Ten minutes ago. You need to hurry.’
‘This is just for today, right?’ Archie scrapes back his chair and stands up. ‘I don’t have to actually give her away at the wedding?’
‘Of course not.’ Francelia tuts. ‘Roderick will be here by then.’
She doesn’t sound convinced.
‘I guess I’ll see you later then, Emily.’ Archie stoops to kiss me on top of the head, which should be a sweet gesture but isn’t after he almost crushed my fingers moments ago. He strolls away with his usual confident stride, but Francelia doesn’t join him just yet.
‘Everything okay here?’ Her eyes flick to the table, where my hands are clasped underneath. Should I tell her what just happened? Even though I’m not entirely sure myself? ‘Because, you know, Archie is incredibly busy with work at the moment. It’s non-stop, even when he’s here, celebrating his cousin’s wedding. He can’t relax. Not for a minute. It must be terribly stressful, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose.’ It still doesn’t excuse his behaviour just now.
‘Archie is a good boy. Always has been.’ With a nod, Francelia backs away and I’m left with a bowl of mushy cornflakes and throbbing fingers.
I know what I said about avoiding Tom over the next couple of days, but I find myself tracking him down after breakfast. He’s the only one who’ll be able to help me understand what just happened with Archie. He isn’t fooled by the ‘Mr Charisma’ screen, so I’m sure he’ll believe me when I tell him my suspicions that Archie is a whack job. I’m not so sure Alice will as she’s so blinded by Archie’s so-called charm.
I’m beginning to think I’ve been a bit harsh with my judgements of my recent dates; so what if that one guy had four cats, all named after the girls from Little Mix – at least he cares about animals and isn’t a psycho like Archie! The men I’ve dated over the past year have all been essentially good guys – quirkiness and overeagerness are harmless traits – so perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to reject the guys that don’t fit my – perhaps unachievable – ideal in the future.
So at least pretending to date Archie has had one positive outcome. Silver linings and all that.
I eventually find Tom trundling along the lawns to the front of the property on a ride-on mower. The noise is thunderous, but I manage to flag him down by waving my arms about like an idiot until he switches off the engine.
‘I was going to come and find you later,’ Tom says as he removes his earmuffs and hops down from the mower. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘I need to talk to you too. About Archie. Can we go somewhere more private?’
Tom nods. ‘How about the cottage?’
Tom’s cottage would be private, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go there, especially after last night. Besides, I really don’t want to be surrounded by Lydia’s things, reminding me of our betrayal.
‘Or maybe the library? It’s closer and I’ve never seen anybody else using it while I’ve been here.’
‘Good idea.’ Tom starts to walk towards the castle, but he isn’t striding with his usual haste. Perhaps he isn’t looking forward to our chat. I’m pretty sure this will be the end of our friendship – or whatever it is we have going on. As much as I want to throw myself at Tom and snog his little face off (which I do – I’ve shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans to stop myself from making a grab for him), I can’t ignore the fact that he’s engaged and about to become a father. Getting involved with a man already in a relationship isn’t my style, and I’m pretty sure Tom has similar ethics.
Maybe I shouldn’t burden Tom with my Archie problem after all. Maybe it’s best to break off all contact now, before we make matters worse.
‘I’m sorry about last night.’ It’s the first time either of us has spoken since we set off for the library. We’re in the castle now, making our way along the corridor, our feet sinking into the plush carpet. The library is just around the corner, but I can’t wait. My stomach is in knots, the words bubbling up inside. ‘Did you tell Lydia what happened?’ Tom shakes his head, and I puff out a sigh of relief. ‘Good. It’s probably for the best. I mean, nothing really happened. Nothing that should destroy your relationship. Your family.’ I picture the scan photo – it’s been on the outskirts of my mind since last night and keeps popping over to say hello – and my chest aches. Tom is going to make an amazing father, but I’ll never get to see it for myself. After this, I won’t be part of his life at all.
‘Emily.’ Tom stops and turns to face me, his eyebrows low, hands wringing in front of him. ‘I’m not engaged. Not any more.’
Oh my God. My hand flies to my mouth. He’s broken off his engagement. For me? Are the knots in my stomach tightening through excitement or fear? I mean, this is too much, surely? We’ve only known each other for a matter of days! He can’t change the course of his life over one kiss, no matter how incredible it felt.
But can I imagine a life without Tom in it? Can I imagine going home on Sunday morning and never seeing him again?
I give it a go. The thought isn’t pleasant, and those knots in my stomach aren’t in agreement with a life without Tom.
What is happening to me? I arrived here just four days ago with a severe loathing of relationships and commitment, yet I’m already mourning Tom’s loss. This is madness, without factoring in Lydia and the baby.
My hand reaches for my stomach. The baby. He can’t do this. I can’t let him do this.
‘Tom, no.’ I shake my head, fighting the urge to grab hold of his gorgeous face and kiss him. Because as much as I feel it’s wrong for Tom to go down this path, I really, really want to kiss him again. ‘You can’t end your relationship with Lydia because of me.’
Gosh, it pains me to say that, but it’s absolutely true. There’s something between us – a spark, an attraction – but the timing is shitty. Really, humongously shitty. Maybe if we’d met a few years ago, before he met Lydia… But no. A few years ago I wouldn’t have been able to give myself to Tom. I’d have pushed him away like all the others. It seems Tom and I simply aren’t destined to be.
‘I’m sorry, Tom, but I can’t do this.’
Turning around, I run back down the corridor, ignoring Tom’s call for me to wait, to let him explain. Ignoring the voice inside me that’s telling me I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I’ve chosen a navy-blue fi
shtail gown with a diamante halter neck for the rehearsal dinner. It’s the most glamorous dress I’ve ever owned, and I’ve even gone the extra mile and bought a matching clutch. The dress was on sale, but even with the pretty hefty discount, this is the most I have ever spent on one item of clothing; I’d usually expect two or three outfits for the price. But, I’d reasoned as I admired my body from all angles in the changing room’s mirrors, I’ll get my money’s worth from it. I’ll wear it often: the staff Christmas do, swanky dates (if I’m ever invited on one – and if I accept), doing the washing up… Yes, I’ll get lots of wear out of this extremely expensive, not-very-practical dress.
‘Wit woo.’ Alice gives a wolf whistle when she emerges from the bathroom and sees me twisting in front of the dressing-table mirror, trying to convince myself that my bum can’t possibly look that good. ‘Nobody’s going to be paying any attention to the bride-to-be tonight.’ Alice joins me at the mirror and rests her head on my shoulder.
‘Is it too much?’ Alice has seen the dress before – she’d convinced me to part with the weep-inducing chunk of my salary – but now I’m worried it isn’t suitable after all.
‘Don’t be daft.’ Alice sits on her bed and removes the towel she’s wrapped around her hair. ‘There’s no such thing, honey. You look amazing. Own it.’
Alice starts to towel dry her hair while I turn back to the mirror. I do look amazing, even if I’m not feeling so hot inside.
‘Do you think Tom will be there tonight?’
I haven’t spoken to him since my little disappearing act this morning. I found the old buttery down near the kitchens and hid out there for a while before returning to my room to attempt to lose myself in my book, but the dashing Tudor hero was doing nothing for me. Tom is all I can think about. And that damn scan photo.
‘Carolyn invited him, so I hope so.’ Alice drops the towel on the floor and grabs the hairdryer. ‘Why do you ask?’
The Wedding that Changed Everything Page 23
