by Jessica Hart
'I know what that feels like,' Lou confessed and his mother studied her with eyes that were uncannily like her son's, and quite as shrewd.
'I thought you might,' she said. 'That's why you're right for him. I just hope that you know that much of what Patrick shows the world is just a fa?ade. Underneath he's generous and dependable, and he's got a kind heart. Nothing's too much trouble for the few people he really cares about. You know that, don't you?'
Lou looked across at Patrick, and felt something shift inside her. He was surrounded by his sisters, laughing and throwing up his hands in defeat as if resigned to being the butt of their jokes. It was hard to recognise the cold, hard man she hadn't wanted to have dinner with in Newcastle.
'Yes,' she said to his mother, 'I know.'
She was pretty sure that if she asked him, he would do anything for her or the children, just as Kate said. But he would do it because they had signed a pre-nuptial contract to say that he would.
Lou wanted him to do it because he cared for them too.
And that wasn't in the contract.
The grey clouds cleared miraculously for Lou's wedding day. She woke to sunshine pouring through the bedroom window and a knot of nerves in her stomach. A perfect summer day. A perfect day to get married.
If only you were marrying a man who loved you.
Lou's fingers shook as she laid out her outfit. There had been no question of a white dress—the wedding was going to be enough of a fraud as it was—and she had chosen a pale pink suit to wear with the string of pearls Fenny had given her.
T'd like you to wear these at your wedding,' she had said, unwrapping the velvet cloth in which the pearls had lain unworn for years.
'Oh, Fenny, they're beautiful!' Lou held them against her skin, admiring their warm lustre.
'My neck's too scraggy to wear them now,' said Fenny. 'And they're not really suitable for gardening, which is all I do nowadays.' She put her head on one side to study Lou who was fastening the pearls around her neck. 'Donald gave them to me when we were married, so goodness knows how long ago that is now... It certainly makes them
something old for you to wear with your wedding outfit, anyway! I'd like you to have them.'
Marisa had approved. 'I've brought some pearl earrings to lend you that'll go perfectly with Fenny's necklace,' she announced, breezing into the room as Lou was getting changed. She had insisted on coming to help Lou dress, in spite of everything Lou had to say about it not being a proper wedding.
'So now you've got something old and something borrowed,' she said, picking up a lipstick from the dressing table. 'I trust you've bought yourself some new underwear at least for today, so all you need is something blue.' She pulled the top off the lipstick and frowned. 'I hope you're not planning to wear this with that suit, are you?'
'I bought it specially,' Lou protested.
Marisa was shocked. 'It's far too pale! You need something much brighter than that. I'll see what I can find.' She dug in her bag for the vast cosmetic case she never travelled without. 'Are you OK, Lou? It's not like you to make a mistake when it comes to style!'
'I'm nervous.' Lou fiddled edgily with the pearls. 'What if I'm doing the wrong thing?'
Marisa put the cosmetic case on one side and concentrated on Lou. 'OK, what could go wrong?' she asked patiently.
'Everything! The children might not get on with Patrick; he might not get on with them.'
'They seem to get on fine at the moment.'
'They do now, but what if Patrick gets bored with us? He might meet some...some supermodel with no bottom and legs up to her armpits and decide he want»to have babies with her!' said Lou wildly.
'I agree Patrick's more likely to meet a supermodel than most men,' Marisa conceded, 'but if he'd wanted to marry
someone like that, he could have done. It's you he's marrying.'
'Yes, but not for the right reasons,' said Lou wretchedly. 'If it all goes wrong, I'll have given my children an absolutely terrible example of how to form adult relationships, won't I?'
Marisa sighed. 'I hate to be tactless, but that low life Lawrie isn't exactly a shining role model when it comes to relationships, and you married him.'
'All the more reason not to make the same mistake again. Shouldn't I be teaching the children about adults loving each other, not making deals?'
'It's always a deal, Lou,' said Marisa stringently. 'Yes, you've made a deal, but it's an open and honest one. It's a good start—and who's to say that you and Patrick won't come to love each other?'
Lou shook her head. 'No, we're not going to do that,' she said. 'I told you, we've agreed that's not what either of us want.'
'Well, it seems a sinful waste to me.' Her friend sighed. 'I can't believe you haven't noticed how attractive he is. I wouldn't be letting any ditzy blondes get their paws on him if he was mine!'
Lou turned away to pick up the pearls. 'I don't want to get hurt again,' she said. 'I'd rather he hurt the blondes.'
'If I were you, I'd just relax and see what happens,' Marisa advised. 'I don't think Patrick would hurt you, anyway.'
'You can't know that'
'Well, I told him that if he did hurt you, I would personally come after him with a pair of shears—and it wouldn't just be the sleeves of his suits I'd be chopping off!'
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Lou couldn't help laughing and immediately felt better. 'Poor Patrick! What did he say?'
'Very sensibly, he said that he wouldn't.' Marisa grinned and made a scissoring gesture with her fingers. 'But he has been warned!'
Once the knotty question of the lipstick had been sorted out, Marisa insisted on bringing Lou a glass of champagne. Lou was doubtful at first.
'It was champagne that got me into this mess in the first place!'
'Hey, you're marrying a millionaire,' said Marisa. 'You're also getting married for the second time, when some of us are still looking for a guy to waltz us up the aisle once, let alone twice. Don't knock it!'
Grace sidled into the room when she was gone in search of a bottle. Lou swung round on the dressing-table stool, her heart squeezing at the sight of her daughter who had eschewed her normally gloomy wardrobe for a pretty mint-green dress covered in pink dots. On her feet she wore pink ballerina shoes in place of her usual clumpety black boots.
Lou had told her that she could wear whatever she wanted, and she had been very touched when Grace had opted for a dress that she had known would please her mother. She had even brushed her hair.
'You look lovely,' said Lou sincerely.
'Thanks. You look nice too, Mum,' Grace muttered. She brought a hand out from behind her back. 'Marisa says you need something blue.'
It was a perfectly hideous bracelet, made up of blue plastic cubes on an elasticated band, but Lou knew how treasured it was. A boy at school, about whom Grace was unusually coy, had given it to her the previous Christmas.
'You can wear this if you want.'
It was a real sacrifice, Lou knew, and her throat was tight
as she got up and hugged her daughter. 'Thank you, Grace. Fd love to wear it'
Grace was not normally a tactile child, but she clung to her mother for a moment. 'I just wanted to say thank you,' she said in a rush. 'I know you're doing this for me, and for Tom.'
Lou held her close, her heart full. 'I'm doing it for all of us, Grace,' she told her quietly. 'Everything's going to be fine.'
Stepping back with a smile, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. It threw out all Marisa's style rules, and her friend would have a fit when she saw it, but it meant more to Lou than anything else that day.
'I'll take great care of it,' she promised Grace.
Afterwards, Lou remembered little of the wedding itself. The simple ceremony was held in the garden of the hotel, and, although they had decided just to invite family..and Marisa, who was an honorary member of the family, as Fenny pointed out...there seemed to be a lot of people grouped around them and smiling.
As they waited for the celebrant to gather her thoughts together and begin, Lou saw Patrick's mother, who had pulled out all the stops with an imposing hat, before her I eyes skipped on to Fenny, eccentrically dressed in a striped dress that had to be at least thirty years old. Then there was j Grace, and Tom, his shirt tail already hanging loose, and Marisa, who gave her a discreet thumbs-up sign.
Lou managed a smile for them all, and then she turned to Patrick and everything else faded into a vague background. It was as if the rest of the party were no more than a blur of faces and figures, cut off from the two of them by an invisible barrier.
Only Patrick was real and solid. He looked very smart in a grey suit, an immaculate white shirt, and a pale grey
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tie. Lou found herself staring at his face as if she had never seen him properly before. That jaw, that cool, firm mouth, the hard line of his cheek...had he always looked like that?
Her gaze travelled over him as if fascinated until her eyes reached his. Light, more green than grey today, and somehow disturbing, they held a quizzical smile at her scrutiny, and Lou blushed as she looked quickly away.
The celebrant cleared her throat. 'Shall we start?' she asked in an undertone, and Patrick turned to face her. After a moment's hesitation, Lou did the same.
Getting married was a strange experience this time. She heard the words, and made the right responses, marvelling at the steadiness of her own voice, but part of her didn't seem to be there at all. It was like watching herself in a film.
Then Patrick was taking her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger and suddenly it all felt horribly real. His fingers were warm and sure, and Lou felt herself go hollow inside at his touch. Her own hands shook slightly as she picked up the ring to push it onto Patrick's finger, but at last it was done.
They were married.
Patrick smiled and turned to Lou quite naturally, putting his hand under her chin and lifting her face so that he could I kiss her. At the touch of his mouth the ground seemed to drop away beneath Lou's feet. His lips weren't cool, the way she had imagined them to be. They were warm and firm and dangerously exciting, and her heart jolted in response. Unable to resist it, Lou leant slightly into him, and Patrick's mouth lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary before he forced himself to lift his head.
She looked almost as startled as he felt. Patrick felt ridiculously shaken by the unexpected sweetness of that one kiss. He couldn't believe such a brief gesture could have
thrown him so off balance, or what an effort it was to muster a flippant smile.
'Well, we did it,' he said.
'Yes,' said Lou, and smiled a little uncertainly back at him.
Patrick was conscious of a sudden urge to pull her back into his arms, but she was already turning, her smile widening as Grace and Tom reached her. He watched as she hugged them both to her, aware of a feeling that it took him a little while to identify as jealousy. Just because Lou loved her children and they loved her and got to be gathered close into her softness and her warmth whenever they wanted her or needed her.
How pathetic was it to feel jealous about that?
Patrick suddenly realised that Grace was smiling tentatively at him, and he pulled himself together. He opened his arms, and to his surprise she stepped into them for a quick, hard hug. 'Thank you, Grace,' he said, meaning it. He had known her long enough to know that Grace only hugged the people who meant most to her, and he felt a sudden rush of pride and pleasure to be included.
Ruffling Tom's hair, he glanced over at Lou and found her watching him with her children. The expression in her dark eyes was impossible to read, but she smiled at him, and Patrick felt something unlock inside him. He longed suddenly to be alone with her, the way they had been on top of that hill yesterday, but there was no chance of that with all these people here, all wanting to congratulate him and kiss Lou.
And things didn't get any better. At one point in the afternoon, it seemed to Patrick that he was the only one not getting to kiss the bride. It was hard to get near her. He kept getting glimpses of her dark head and her warm smile
and then somebody else would come up and want him to be pleasant to them.
Patrick grew more and more frustrated. 'Don't worry, you'll get her to yourself soon enough,' his elder sister said, coming up behind him. She laughed at his disconcerted expression. 'We're all enjoying the sight of you besotted at last. You haven't been able to take your eyes off Lou all day.'
Besotted? He wasn't besotted, Patrick thought crossly. What a ridiculous idea. He had never been besotted with anyone in his life. Everyone knew that he was the one who ran a mile at the faintest hint of emotion. It was just a groom's job to keep an eye on his bride, that was all.
Unthinkingly, he sought Lou in the crowd. She was standing with his mother and Fenny, and they were all laughing. Lou's face was alive, her dark eyes sparkling, and his chest felt suddenly tight.
She looked wonderful in that suit, so different from the demure grey ones she wore to the office. The soft pink colour made her skin glow, and the silk jacket was fastened low to offer a glimpse of something that looked as if it were made of satin and lace beneath. The mere thought of it was enough to make Patrick catch his breath.
With those high-heeled shoes, she looked incredibly sexy, yet elegant at the same time. Patrick wasn't sure where the blue plastic bracelet fitted into the colour scheme, but it looked OK to him. Today Lou could carry off anything.
He wasn't besotted. He just wished that he were with her. Just wished that they were alone and that he were the one making her laugh. Wished that he could undo that jacket and find out just what she was wearing underneath...
Patrick swallowed.
'Besotted,' his sister confirmed with satisfaction. 'It was
about time you fell in love with a real woman, instead of all those bimbos you've been running around with for all this time, trying to prove that you weren't going to be middle-aged like the rest of us. Talk about an extended mid-life crisis. Oh, there's Michael!' She waved at a man through the crowd. 'I must go and have a word.'
Patrick was left outraged by his sister's candid remarks. He had not been trying to prove anything, he had never had any suggestion of a mid-life crisis and he most certainly wasn't in love with Lou.
In spite of himself, he glanced her way again. She was bending down to talk to one of his small nieces. He could see the way her breasts moved beneath that jacket, the way the silky dark hair swung against her cheek, the way she smiled with those lips that had tasted so piercingly, unexpectedly sweet. Patrick's head reeled and he closed his eyes briefly.
He was not in love with his wife.
A bit in lust, maybe, but that was all it was.
He was just frustrated. He hadn't had so much as a date since he and Lou had agreed to marry. Lou had made it clear that she would have no objections, but somehow Patrick hadn't felt like going out.
That would have to change. Lou had been definite that a physical relationship was out, and in any case Patrick had no intention of closing off his options with other women. That was the whole reason he had married her in the first place!
No, forget Lou's camisole, he told himself sternly. Stick with friendship, just as they had agreed before she'd started putting on pink suits and kissing him.
Patrick was glad now that he had got his new PA to arrange suites at all the hotels they were going to stay at on their way back to London. It hadn't seemed appropriate
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to book a honeymoon, but he had suggested that they make their way home slowly, visiting some gardens on the way if that appealed to Lou.
'But you're not interested in gardens,' she had protested.
'No, but I am interested in my car. I'll be happy to drive all the way.'
Lou laughed. 'Ah, now I understand!'
'All the hotels have got suites,' he added casually, 'so you should be quite comforta
ble. You'll be able to have a room of your own every night.'
She didn't even hesitate. 'Great,' she said. 'Thanks for organising that.'
So that was fine. Separate beds all the way. Patrick sneaked another glance at Lou.
It was fine by him too. Absolutely fine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was nearly seven before Patrick and Lou managed to say all their goodbyes. The roof was down as they drove off into a golden summer evening, and the car seemed to float along the winding dales roads. It should have been an idyllic start to a honeymoon, thought Lou, leaning her head back against the plush leather seat.
Only it wasn't a proper honeymoon, of course. They were just going to stay the night at a couple of hotels on their way back to London. There would be no intimate celebrations, no elation, no laughter, no kisses.
No making love.
Patrick had made it very clear that they wouldn't be sharing a room, let alone a bed. That was fine by her, Lou reminded herself firmly, but it did make the whole notion of a honeymoon a bit of a mockery. They might just as well have driven back with Grace and Tom, but Lawrie had, for once, turned up as arranged to collect them from the reception. The children were going to spend a week with him. It was good for them to see their father, Lou thought, but it did mean that she was now going to have to spend a week alone with Patrick.
Of course, they had spent plenty of time alone in the office, but it was different now. Lou stole a sideways glance at Patrick. Her husband. She still couldn't quite comprehend it.
His expression was preoccupied, but his hands were very sure on the steering-wheel. As she watched he shifted gear to round a tight bend, completely in control of the powerful
car, and something tightened and twisted inside Lou. Something deep and disturbing. Something that brought back the memory of the kiss they had shared after the ceremony in a vivid whoosh, so that she could feel again the warmth of his lips, the touch of his hand against her face.
