Married by Easter

by Clare Revell

  He touched his jacket pocket to make sure the ring box was still there. He hoped she’d like it. It hadn’t been an easy choice to make between the two rings he liked, the pressure of time only adding to his dilemma. Now he needed to find somewhere pretty to give it to her. He wasn’t sure why, but even for an arranged marriage, a car park wasn’t the right place to give someone a ring. Then his stomach leapt as Chloe walked across the snow covered car park towards him.

  A smile leapt across his face before he could stop it as he strode over to greet her. In case someone was watching, he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Hi. How are you?”

  Chloe smiled back, her eyes lighting up, cheeks turning a delicious shade of red at his kiss. Her hair was tucked up under a woolly hat with the exception of a few strands which hung loose. “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” He opened the door for her and followed her inside.

  Mr. West was in reception. “That’s good timing. Come on through.”

  Ten minutes later, contract signed and left with their lawyer, Nigel led her back out into the chilly air. It was snowing again. He tugged his coat collar around his neck. “We should try and arrange a date for the wedding. Not to mention arrange to see each other again beforehand. Where would be the best place to go?”

  Chloe hesitated. “Perhaps my flat would be better than a café or something. I could make dinner and we could talk without being interrupted.”

  “That sounds good.” And he’d have to try her cooking at some point.

  “I left my car at home this morning. I hope you don’t mind a long walk.”

  He smiled. “I can take you. The car is in the library car park. I drove myself.”

  “You drive? I thought perhaps…” Her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “I thought perhaps you’d been banned or something.”

  He shook his head. “One of the perks of being rich as my father would say. I prefer to drive myself to work and to the campus. It’s slightly less pretentious.”

  She chuckled. “In the limo?”

  Nigel laughed. “No. It is a tempting idea some days. However, I don’t want the students getting any ideas about this rich, unattached professor.” He winked. “Well, ex-unattached professor, who now has a pretty ballet dancer as his next of kin in his phone.”

  ****

  Her flat was smaller than he’d imagined. The top floor of a cold tower block.

  Chloe opened the front door and flicked on the lights. “Come on in. I hate these long dark evenings.”

  “So do I.” He hung his coat along with hers on the old fashioned tree in the narrow hallway. “That’s the nice thing about living on the coast in the summer. Long nights on the beach.”

  “I haven’t been to Bournemouth since my dancing days. I did Swan Lake in the theatre there. Is lasagna all right?”

  “Lovely. One of my favorites.”

  She smiled. “Good. I don’t have any wine I’m afraid as I don’t drink. But there is a plethora of tea, coffee, and juice.”

  “I haven’t drunk since I met you.” He felt awkward saying as much, especially when she raised an eyebrow. “It sounds corny I know, but it really is like that verse in the Song of Solomon. The one that says how much better is your love than wine and the fragrance of your perfumes than any spice. Even if this isn’t love, it seems to be having the same effect.”

  “Well,” she floundered. “I’m glad I’m useful for something. Bathroom is just there.” She pointed rooms out as she headed down the hallway. “Lounge is straight ahead, kitchen just to the left, bedrooms around the L shape to the right. Well, bedroom and junk room, although it does have a bed. The place may not be very big, but it’s just me.”

  Nigel leaned against the wall, watching her as she pulled out pans and cooking utensils. “I’ve been looking at Scotland’s marriage laws regarding a Gretna Green wedding.”

  Chloe tossed meat into the pan and began cooking. “What did you find out?”

  “The basic package is around a thousand quid, including the marriage fee. That includes sixteen photos in an album and all the paperwork, overnight stay for bride and groom, dinner for up to ten people and wine with the meal. The notice period is still four weeks, but I’ve emailed and asked if they have a slot free before Easter. I’ll need your birth certificate to send to them.”

  “Adam said five hundred.”

  Nigel tilted his head. “He also said that was ten years ago. That’s not too bad an increase.”

  She added herbs and seasoning. “My birth certificate is in the desk drawer.”

  Nigel’s phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. “OK, email says we have to give four weeks’ notice, but they have a late date service available. We need to send the forms immediately, as there is a minimum wait of twenty-nine days for the forms and license, but they can marry us at 1PM on Palm Sunday—twenty-eight days—but it’s that or after Easter as they are fully booked.”

  “What does that include?”

  He read the email again and looked up. “Photo album as before, three course meal with wine for eighteen, with tea and coffee afterwards; bucks fizz for bride, groom and guests after the ceremony; one night in a four poster bed for bride and groom, nine double rooms for the guests. Plus registrar and minister if we want.” He totaled it up in his head.

  She looked at the calendar. “That’s exactly four weeks. Talk about cutting it fine.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Bit late for that now. We’ve signed the contract.” She picked up a pen and circled the date on the calendar. “Email them back and say yes please. We should take it quickly before someone else does.” She paused. “How much is this going to cost?”

  Nigel held her gaze. “Best part of two and a half grand. But a fraction of what it would cost down here if our families got involved. That’s assuming we found somewhere.”

  “Yeah. Do it. I have some money saved, I can help towards the cost…”

  “No need. I know it’s tradition for the bride’s family to pay, but I’ll cover the cost.” He tapped quickly on his phone. “Done.”

  He pulled the ring box from his pocket and took hold of her hand. “If this doesn’t fit, you can change it or get it resized. I kept the receipt.” Her eyes widened as he slid the diamond and sapphire ring onto her left hand. “This is yours to keep once the year is up.”

  “Thank you.” There was almost a reverent hush in her voice. “It’s beautiful. And a perfect fit.”

  “Welcome.”

  Chloe looked up at him. “You should speak to my father. It’s only right that you ask his permission to marry me. I’ll give you his number.”

  Nigel kissed her hand. “I’ll do it as soon as we’ve eaten.”

  “OK.” She slid the lasagna into the oven, the ring sparkling in the light. “If you want to print those forms off we can fill them in tonight. The computer’s in the lounge. It’s on, you just need to turn on the monitor.”

  Nigel headed into the lounge and flicked on the light. He turned on the computer monitor and then crossed the room to pull the curtains. He laughed as he saw the patio door.

  Chloe looked through the hatch. “What’s so funny?”

  He pointed. “You’re on the fourth floor and you have a door and no balcony.”

  “I always assumed it was a fire exit, despite the fact there is no ladder there.”

  He printed off the forms and then sat with Chloe at the table to fill them in. He looked at her date of birth. “I wasn’t sure if twenty-eight was right on the website,” he said. “It seemed, how do I put this…”

  “Old to be unmarried? I could same the same of you being thirty.”

  He chuckled, reading his phone as a new email popped up. “Cool. They say if I scan the forms in and email them, they’ll reserve the slot for us and email me a confirmation. Then once we pay the deposit and the forms arrive, they’ll book us in properly.”

  “The printer doubles up as a scanner. So you can do th
at from here. Then we can fill them in and send them off in the morning by registered post.”

  Nigel scanned in and emailed the documents. Just as Chloe put the plates on the table his phone beeped again. He smiled, a weight lifted from his mind. “OK, that’s the wedding, reception and overnight rooms booked for Palm Sunday. We can add a cake as well, if you’d like.”

  “Probably should. The family will expect it.”

  He glanced up from the papers. “They also need to know how many witness we have for the reception and names to book the rooms under. It’ll just be my brother and lawyer on my side.”

  Chloe paused. “Well, there are my parents, brother and sister-in-law. So that’s four.”

  “OK, that’s six then. So I was thinking you and I can fly to Carlisle and drive from there. It’s about twenty minutes, half an hour. I’ll book the flights and hire car tomorrow. I’ll book two rooms in a hotel in Gretna Green itself for the night before the wedding.” He paused. “I’ll spend the wedding night on the couch or something.”

  The doorbell rang. Chloe sighed. “Excuse me a moment.” She headed down the hallway. “Caleb.”

  “Are you busy?” His loud voice filled the small flat.

  “Actually, yes. I’m about to eat.”

  “Is that an engagement ring?”

  “Ten out of ten for noticing. I’m getting married on Palm Sunday. We’ll give you an invitation once we’ve—”

  “What? Is this that bloke you met off the Internet last week?”

  “I thought this was what you wanted. Me getting married.”

  Nigel rose to his feet and moved into the hall.

  “Not like this and not this quickly to a stranger.” Caleb’s voice rose. “Signing you up to the website was a joke. You weren’t meant to actually do anything with it.”

  Nigel wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist, his instinct being to protect her. “I happen to be rather fond of your sister. Call it love at first sight if you like, and I have no intentions of harming her. Now if you don’t mind, we are about to have dinner. You’re welcome to join us and help discuss wedding plans.”

  Caleb scowled and left.

  Chloe raised an eyebrow. “You asked him to dinner?”

  “Being polite. Not sure if it was your cooking or the wedding plans that scared him off.”

  She giggled. “You have a weird sense of humor. But one I could get used to.”

  8

  Over dinner, the discussion turned to where they were going to live.

  Chloe still couldn’t believe how things were turning out. It had gone from fantasy to an idea to reality. This morning she’d gone to work an ordinary person and now she was engaged to marry the proverbial tall, dark, handsome stranger.

  She twisted the fork in her hand. “I’ve always wanted to live by the beach. I can sell up and open a new school down there. That way you don’t have to change jobs. Honestly, I’ve thought about quitting here for some time. Start fresh somewhere far away. Bournemouth would be a fine place to live.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” The doorbell rang again and she sighed. She really didn’t want another fight with Caleb tonight. “Where did you want to live? In your mansion?”

  Nigel shuddered. “Perish the thought. I thought we could get a small place of our own. Two bedrooms, something like this or a small house down on the sea front—close enough to walk a dog along the beach each night. I’d much prefer that than living in something the Heritage Organization would love to run given half the chance.”

  Several thuds came from the front door. “Chloe. I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

  She caught her breath. Cold swept over her and she wondered if she looked as pale as she felt. “That’s Dad. I’d better answer it.” She rose and headed to the door.

  Both her parents stood there and neither looked happy. “Where is he, Chloe?”

  She smiled faintly, hoping to offset some of their displeasure. “Hi. Where’s who?”

  “Caleb said you met a man on the internet on Saturday and now you’re getting married. Your mother and I came straight over. Is he still here?”

  “Please, don’t shout, Dad.” She closed the door. “I don’t want the whole block hearing.” She leaned against the wall. “And it’s not like I’m sixteen anymore or sneaking around behind your backs. I would never do that.”

  “Where’s he hiding? Is he not man enough to ask my permission for your hand in marriage?”

  “Dad, please. He’s right here; we’re just finishing up dinner.”

  “Mr. Wilkes, Mrs. Wilkes. I’m Dr. Nigel Turner.” Nigel spoke from her side. She hadn’t even seen him approach. “I’m not hiding. I was going to give you a call later this evening. Chloe and I wanted to get everything sorted first.”

  “Chloe, leave us.”

  “What? No. I’m not leaving. Whatever you have to say to Nigel affects both of us.”

  Her father frowned. “In that case you can sit here and not say a word. Your fiancé and I have several things to talk about.”

  ****

  Nigel sat on the pink overstuffed couch half wishing the dining table were between him and Chloe’s parents. His hands rested on his lap, palms damp, stomach churching. Acid rose in his throat.

  Chloe sat next to him, her hand inches away from his thigh. Did she want to hold his hand as much as he did hers?

  Tentatively he reached out, his fingers touching hers. Instantly her hand gripped his. No matter his motives, it looked as if they were putting up a united front.

  He glanced at Chloe’s father.

  The man glowered at him. He looked like an older version of Caleb. The thick hair was still golden, but tinged with grey. Problem was, Nigel didn’t blame the man for being angry. He’d probably react the same way given the situation. And the bloke didn’t know the half of it.

  Chloe’s mother sat the other side of the room, her hands wringing, and disappointment written all over her face.

  “Do you know how it looks? Have you any idea how we feel right now?”

  “No, sir, I don’t. We’d hoped you’d be pleased for us. I know I haven’t known your daughter long, but—”

  Mr. Wilkes scowled, glancing over at his wife before glaring at Nigel again. “According to Caleb you’ve only known Chloe two weeks, having picked her up off some Internet dating site. And now you’re getting married in a month? We know nothing about you.”

  “I work for the Home Office as a forensic pathologist and university lecturer,” Nigel said, praying hard. He needed the right words to defuse the situation. Lying would only make the situation so much worse. “I’ve met Chloe three times in the last fortnight and spent a fair bit of time getting to know her on those occasions. We’ve also emailed and texted each other constantly over the past few days. I admit, things are moving a little quicker than normal, but I’m not forcing her into this marriage. We’ve already been to Chloe’s lawyer and set up a pre-nup. She’ll be well looked after in the future.”

  “Why do you need a pre-nup on a doctor’s salary?”

  “I also recently inherited the Thornhill Abbey estate. Chloe won’t have to worry about money for the rest of her life.”

  “Well, I still think you should wait a year or so. Save up for it.”

  “The chapel in Gretna Green is already booked and paid for,” Chloe said, her warm hand squeezing his. “The wedding is Palm Sunday at one o’clock. We’re not eloping. We want you and Mum to come with us as witnesses—I want you to give me away. If the others don’t want to come, well, it’s their loss.” She looked at her father, her eyes glistening. “We’ve even booked a reception meal and rooms for up to eighteen guests to stay overnight.”

  Mr. Wilkes’s face softened. “It’s still fast. I know your mother and I married after only three months, but…”

  “And you’ve been married thirty-five years now. I’m just following your example. Nigel was going to phone you tonight and talk to you. We had no intentions of ju
st up and marrying without letting you know.”

  “Dr. Turner, I’d like to talk to my daughter in private.”

  “I’d rather stay.” He had no intentions of letting Chloe face this alone. The desire to protect her swept over him, catching him unawares.

  “Nigel, I’ll be fine. You’ve got work tomorrow and you won’t be home much before eleven by now anyway.”

  He gazed into her soulful brown eyes. “Are you sure, hon?” The term of endearment sounded strange, yet it fell so easily from him.

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Nigel reluctantly stood. “OK. Chloe, I’ll call you when I get home. Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Chloe got to her feet. “Will you be up this weekend?”

  “Yes. I’ll meet you after your class on Saturday morning.” He followed her into the hall and slid into his thick overcoat. He kissed her cheek, and then aware of her father watching from the doorway, wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll call you when I get home. Good night.”

  Chloe hugged him back. She was so soft against him, and her perfume made his head spin. “Night.”

  Nigel trotted down the stairs and out into the freezing air. He turned up his collar and walked across the snowy pavement towards his car. Something hit the back of his head, sending him to his knees with a grunt. Stars floated across his vision. Another blow to his back left him face down on the floor. Then pain erupted all over his body as the kicking began.

  9

  Chloe sipped the tea. She’d explained about Caleb joining the website on her behalf and her father hadn’t reacted the way she’d expected. “So there you have it. Nigel’s a nicer bloke than Leon.”

  Her mother looked at her. “You never did say why you broke things off with him. He seemed like such a nice man. And you danced so well together.”