And the Bride Wore Black

by Helen Brooks

  She dressed simply in a plain blue dress that perfectly matched the colour of her eyes, adding tiny gold studs to her ears and a small dab of perfume to her wrists. She debated on whether to put her hair up but a tiny nagging memory of a long white neck and gleaming black hair coiled perfectly in place decided her against it. She would not lower herself to compete for a prize she had no intention of claiming anyway!

  He was sitting in one of the easy-chairs at the bottom of the curving staircase as she made her way downstairs, rising instantly he heard her approach, his hard handsome face unreadable. ‘You look lovely, Fabia,’ he said softly. ‘One can’t improve on perfection but perhaps you’d like to wear this anyway.’ He handed her a small transparent box through which the creamy furled petals of an exotic orchid were visible.

  ‘Oh, it’s beautiful, Alex.’ She looked up into his face in delight, the flawless purity of the hothouse flower touching something deep inside her.

  ‘They had more brilliant colours and shapes but that one seemed right for you.’ He took the bloom out of its box and she saw that the petals were veined with faint blue and gold towards the centre of the flower, culminating in a deep vibrant violet at its heart. ‘The correct name is unpronouncable but it’s known as unawakened,’ he said blandly as he fixed the orchid carefully on her dress, his hands accidentally brushing the side of her breast as he did so and causing a deep heat to rise in her flesh. He seemed quite oblivious to her agitation, taking a strand of long corn-coloured hair in his fingers and letting the smooth silk slip through them as he finished.

  ‘Thank you.’ She stepped back a pace as she spoke, her hand nervously touching the flower as she stared, unsmiling now, into the sombre darkness of his face. He had discarded the formal dinner jacket he usually wore for light trousers and a pale Aran sweater, the cream of the wool throwing his tanned skin and rich brown hair into stark contrast, and somehow emphasising his great height. He looked powerful and dangerous and irresistibly attractive and the blood drummed crazily in her ears as he took her hand and led her into the dimly lit dining-room.

  The table was beautifully decorated in Christmas colours of red and green, the glittering silver cutlery and fine crystal glassware enriched with looped scrolled ribbons and sprays of holly, the centrepiece a magnificent arrangement of sweet-smelling deep red roses, red and green ribbon and soft feathery fern.

  ‘Mary does tend to go overboard at Christmas,’ Alex said drily as he pulled out the chair for her to sit down. ‘Would you like a sherry or a glass of wine before we eat? Dinner will be promptly served in exactly,’ he consulted the heavy gold watch on his wrist, ‘eight minutes if I know anything about this household.’

  ‘A sherry, please.’ She was feeling distinctly uncomfortable and painfully shy and both sensations made her jumpy. He seemed different tonight somehow, although she didn’t know why. She was just conscious of the fact that every inflexion of his voice, every little movement he made, registered on her taut nerves like an electric shock.

  As he placed the glass of sherry in her hand he slipped a long gold package on the table at the side of her fork. ‘Merry Christmas.’ She raised startled eyes to find him looking down at her with that strange expression on his face she had seen once or twice before and once again it was swiftly veiled as he caught her glance.

  ‘What is it?’ She looked down at the box as though it were alive.

  ‘Open it and see,’ he said lightly, turning away from her and walking round to his place at the table opposite her, his big body easy and his face closed.

  ‘Alex! I can’t possibly accept this!’ She stared down at the brilliant solitaire diamond surrounded by a little star of lacy gold fixed on a thin gold chain. It flashed its radiance from a bed of deep blue velvet and she almost stopped breathing as she thought of what the exquisitely wrought necklace must have cost. Why had he done this? The flower had been a piercingly sweet gesture, but this? This was a whole different ball-game.

  ‘Don’t you like it?’ he asked mildly as he sipped a glass of wine slowly. ‘You are at liberty to change it for something else if you like.’

  ‘It’s not that, you know it’s not that,’ she said quickly. ‘No woman could fail to appreciate such a beautiful thing, but I can’t possibly accept it. It must have cost a fortune.’

  ‘The cost is incidental.’ He leant forward suddenly, his eyes tight on her face. ‘The flower reminded me of you and so did this, that’s all there was to it. I saw them and liked them and it has given me pleasure to acquire them for you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Alex...’ She shook her head helplessly, her soft golden hair shining like silk. ‘That’s not the point. It’s far, far too expensive. What would people think?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ The golden gaze narrowed. ‘It’s no one’s business but our own. Do you really care what people think?’

  She dropped her eyes before the directness, frightened her face would reveal her thoughts. She didn’t care what misconstruction other people might put on the gift, it was true. That abrasive fire she had passed through all those years ago with Robin had cleansed her forever of needing people’s approval. As long as she was right in her own heart nothing else had mattered since that purifying time. It wasn’t the nameless crowd that worried her but him. She was worried what he would think if she accepted such a valuable present. Robin had tried to buy her in just the same way although she had been too naïve then to understand. She had no such excuse now. She couldn’t accept the gift.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alex.’ She raised bruised blue eyes to meet his waiting face. ‘It was very kind of you but I can’t take this.’ She snapped the lid shut and proffered the box to him. ‘The flower is lovely—can we just leave it at that?’

  He looked at her for a long moment, the rapier-sharp eyes boring into her mind as a coldness settled over the chiselled features, and then shook his head slowly. ‘You think I’m trying to coax you into my bed with something like that?’ His hand flicked scornfully at the box she still held. ‘That I’m trying to tempt you into selling yourself? You do, don’t you? Don’t deny it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t deny it.’ She held his glance bravely. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone in your position did something like that with a woman.’

  ‘Well, it sure as hell would be the first time I did,’ he snarled savagely, rising from the table violently and striding across to the huge full-length windows, pulling the heavy velvet curtains aside and standing with his back towards her, looking out into the snow-covered gardens beyond. She heard him swear softly to himself and then long minutes ticked by as he stood unmoving and she too remained like a statue, all thoughts numbed by the sudden storm. She heard him take a long deep breath as his shoulders straightened and then he turned to face her, his eyes hooded.

  ‘That was the last thing on my mind, Fabia,’ he said quietly. ‘I know you well enough by now to understand that my wealth works against me, not for me, where you are concerned. I don’t like the picture of me you have in your mind. I’m trying to understand, make allowances, but you sure don’t make it easy. When I hold you in my arms your body tells me one thing but the rest of the time—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘What is it, Fabia? What makes you hate me?’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Alex,’ she said painfully, the numbness melting in the face of his unexpected gentleness. ‘I don’t even know you—’

  ‘Exactly.’ He stared at her, his brow furrowed as his eyes bored into hers. ‘And you don’t intend to try to rectify that, do you.’ It wasn’t a question and she didn’t try to answer it, her eyes falling down as her head lowered.

  ‘Keep the pendant.’ Her gaze raised to meet his. ‘I would like to think of you wearing it some time, that’s all. It’s a Christmas gift, a thank-you for coming here with me if you like. You said you wouldn’t accept any payment and I’ve taken a week of your time and placed you in difficult circumstances. Keep it.’

  ‘Oh, Alex...’ Her voice was soft but his face had set into
harsh cold lines and he didn’t look at her again as he resumed his place at the table, his movements abrupt. She had hurt him, she realised in amazement. Offended him.

  As Mary served the first course, her round plump face beaming and a sprig of holly fixed in the tight knot on the top of her head, Fabia sat in miserable silence, her head spinning. There was Susan, and maybe others like her, and yet he seemed so...sincere. But then maybe he was, she thought grimly, sincere in wanting a brief affair with her, sincere in telling her exactly where she stood from the word go, sincere in letting her see Susan. He hadn’t tried to keep Susan from her and maybe he honestly believed he wasn’t trying to buy her, but it all boiled down to the same thing in the end. As she spooned the delicious rich beef soup into her mouth her resolve strengthened. She couldn’t be what he wanted her to be and if she tried the only person who would get hurt was her. She sensed instinctively that, if she had found the episode with Robin hard, this man could destroy her. She wasn’t sure why—she kept the door to that avenue of thought firmly closed—but she knew it.

  ‘A glass of wine?’ She looked up to see Alex smiling coolly at her, his face bland, and like an actor taking a cue from a director she adopted the same pose as the meal progressed. She had five more days to get through and then she would be free and she would make sure she never, ever came into contact with Alexander Cade again.

  ‘Mrs Cade has finished her meal, Mr Alexander.’ Christine, Isabella’s companion, stood in the doorway as they sipped their coffee. ‘Are you coming to say goodnight?’

  ‘Of course, Christine,’ Alex said easily. ‘Mary did us proud, didn’t she? But it was a shame you and my grandmother couldn’t join us.’

  ‘Oh, we had our own little party upstairs, Mr Alexander,’ Christine said comfortably. She paused and then moved closer to him, lowering her voice as she spoke again. ‘I’ve suggested to Mrs Cade that she doesn’t get up at all tomorrow. The company over the last two days has tired her more than she will admit.’

  ‘I was thinking the same myself,’ Alex agreed thoughtfully. ‘She really seems very frail. Don’t worry, Christine, I’ll take care of it when I come up shortly.’

  As the tall elderly woman left the room he turned to Fabia, his face polite but withdrawn. ‘I shall be going to midnight mass in the village later. It’s something that Isabella expects and it’s little enough to do to please her. You are welcome to come along if you’d like to.’ She hesitated, the instinctive refusal dying on her lips. She didn’t want to be alone with him tonight with the atmosphere so tense and brittle, and yet... Neither did she want him to think she was nervous of him and the uncaring casualness of the invitation had made her feel contrary. He obviously didn’t care one way or the other and she intended to let him see she felt exactly the same!

  ‘I may as well,’ she said lightly in the same tone he had used. ‘I always find a Christmas Eve mass rather lovely.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled at her and there was something in the tawny-brown gaze that made her think, just for a minute, that in some way she had just played right into his hands. But that was nonsense and she was getting far too imaginative. She gave herself a mental shake.

  ‘Just dress for warmth, a couple of jumpers and thick trousers,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘The dogs are in need of a walk and they’ll wait outside while we’re in the church so I thought it would be nice to go by foot rather than car. It isn’t far, just a mile or so across the fields.’

  ‘Fine,’ she agreed quickly. If she was going to be alone with him it would be less dangerous to be in the great outdoors with the temperature well below freezing and two frisky dogs bounding by their side than in the warm intimacy of his car.

  ‘You’ll need a warm coat and boots,’ he cautioned as he stood up to leave the room. ‘The church is always only slightly warmer than the temperature outside and once one is sitting down the cold can really bite. I’ll see you down here in an hour or so?’

  * * *

  She took him at his word and joined him in the hall some time later, buried under her big thick duffel coat, long scarf and mittens with her feet as warm as toast in sheepskin boots. He smiled slowly. ‘You look like all the Christmas presents in the world rolled into one waiting to be unwrapped,’ he said softly, touching the smooth softness of her cheek before donning his own thick car gloves. ‘Come on, Major, Minor!’ The two dogs bounded round their heels excitedly, tails wagging and shiny black noses ready for action.

  As they stepped outside the shock of the icy frost-laden air made her gasp, but it was wonderfully exhilarating. The frost on top of the smooth white blanket of snow made the silver world surrounding them sparkle magically, the clear black sky overhead alive with a million twinkling stars.

  ‘There’s a shortcut through the grounds,’ Alex said in her ear as he tucked her arm in his, ‘then a mile over the fields and we’re there. Are you game?’

  She nodded, laughing suddenly as the two big dogs, wild with delight at the unexpected outing, rolled each other in the snow, barking madly in a confused welter of heads, paws and tails. ‘Crazy pair of mixed-up kids,’ Alex said indulgently. She glanced at his handsome face, alight with laughter and affection as he watched the antics of the dogs, and her heart lurched uncomfortably and then raced at twice its normal rate.

  The night was clear and the moon was full, and as they walked through the fields arm in arm, following the path that other feet had trod that day but that was still inches thick in snow, she had a blinding sense of the significance of the moment. The starlit sky overhead, the rolling countryside clearly visible in its mantle of white, the exuberant animals and...Alex. She drank it all in without trying to understand why she felt so sweetly sad; now was not the time.

  She felt dwarfed at his side in the flat-heeled boots but it was a good feeling. They didn’t speak and curiously that was more intimate than any spoken words, and as the Christmas bells began to call the faithful to worship she knew a poignant shaft of pain in her heart that was more piercing than any of the agony she had endured with Robin.

  ‘There’s the church.’ He looked down at her as he spoke, pointing across the white expanse in front of them to where a small stone-clad church complete with pencil-thin spire stood picturesquely under the dark sky. She had known it would look like that. The magic that had her in its grip had decreed it.

  She couldn’t remember the details of the service afterwards, just the heavy sweet smell of incense, the timeless beauty of the carols and the small crib at the front of the altar containing the Christ child. As they walked out into the cold crisp air to the waiting dogs she felt more miserable than she had ever felt in her life, and totally, helplessly confused.

  ‘I’m glad you came.’ He pressed her into his side as he spoke. ‘Isabella was pleased when I told her.’

  She looked up into his face slowly. And you, she wanted to ask; what, if anything, did it mean to you? The dogs walked quietly at their side now as if they too had been touched by the mystery of the night, and as they left the village lights and retraced their steps over the snow-lit fields he put an arm round her shoulders, drawing her close.

  ‘It’s Christmas Day,’ he said softly as he brought her to a standstill, lifting her chin up to meet his gaze. ‘Happy Christmas, angel-face.’ His kiss was deep and fierce, his cold face touching hers as his lips plundered the sweetness of her mouth as though he was slaking a deep-rooted thirst.

  She had known it would happen, planned that she would remain cool and unmoved, but the second she felt the pressure of his arms holding her close into the big body and his warm lips opening hers she was lost. The flame roared savagely, brightly, and when at last he lifted his mouth from hers they were both panting slightly, her eyes wide and dazed and his narrowed into bright gold slits.

  ‘There’s magic in the air, angel-face.’ He slipped her arm through his and started walking, the dogs leaping up and padding by their side again, looking slightly puzzled at the strange behaviour of the humans who contro
lled their world.

  ‘Magic?’ Her voice was shaking slightly as she spoke and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

  ‘Can’t you feel it?’ He looked down at her again, his face alive with emotion. ‘The world decked out in bridal white as though it’s waiting for us to—’ He stopped abruptly and she licked suddenly dry lips, her heart thudding. For us to make love? she asked silently. It still comes down to that?

  ‘Magic fades in the cold light of day,’ she said quietly, ‘and bridal white has a nasty habit of turning to black.’

  ‘You don’t believe that, not really.’ He stopped again to look deeply into her face. ‘You must believe in the power of love.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked coldly. ‘It was love that put me on the steps of a hospital when I was a few hours old wrapped in an old newspaper. It was love that—’ She stopped. She couldn’t tell him about Robin; the humiliation had run too deep. ‘I don’t believe in love,’ she finished expressionlessly.

  ‘But you must want to get married one day, have children?’ he persisted. ‘Every girl wants a white wedding.’

  ‘If I ever get married it will be in black as befits the occasion,’ she said bitterly. ‘Why pretend? Why play the game that everything is going to turn out all right in the end? It’s fairy-tale nonsense.’ She heard herself speaking the words with something akin to horror. Did she really believe that? she asked herself even as the words left her lips. She didn’t want to feel like this, be this person she could hear talking so coldly, but it was the only way she could protect herself and stop the vulnerability from showing. Argue with me, Alex, she begged silently, convince me I’m wrong, give me some hope that I’m not going to spend the rest of my life alone.

  He did none of those things as they continued their walk in silence, and as she glanced at his face from under her eyelashes she saw it was set in cold and austere lines now, the light that had been there a few minutes before just a memory.